


A Beast Among Skyscrapers

by toasterness



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Additional Tags May Be Added, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood Drinking, Confessions, Fake AH Crew, Feelings Realization, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Murder Mystery, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn, Vampire Gavin, Vampires, Werewolf Michael, Werewolves, author loves jack patillo with all her heart, but still in Los Santos, drinking someone's blood can be so personal, eventually, except more like medium burn, kind of, making someone coffee in the morning is my love language, pre-fahc, the others are a mixed bag of supernatural and mythical beings, they're sort of monster hunters here, this was meant to be way shorter, you can fit so much repression in this baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toasterness/pseuds/toasterness
Summary: When you’ve been alive for countless centuries, it becomes difficult to be surprised – you’ve practically seen it all at that point. Nothing is new and everything is predictable. For this, Gavin was no exception; it was rare for him to find anything truly novel or that could catch him off guard enough to occupy his thoughts for more than a few weeks, months, years, or even decades. Finding something that really shocked him? Basically impossible.Tonight though – tonight he legitimately thought he might be going a little crazy, because laying wounded and bloody in the alley next to his apartment, directly in front of him and barely five feet away, was an absolutely massive werewolf.
Relationships: Gavin Free/Michael Jones
Comments: 81
Kudos: 81





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> Oh shit, here we go again.
> 
> This fic has been in the works for MONTHS and I'm so happy to finally be posting it. Originally, it was a Freewood fic but after everything that happened, I lost all connection to it for several weeks. I finally decided to pick it back up, tag in a new character, and keep going, because I was really happy with what I'd already written and had a whole story ready to be revealed. I'd never written Mavin before and thought I'd give it a shot, and I'm happy with the way it turned out. I hope you are too!
> 
> In the beginning, I kept the chapters really short, thinking I'd keep this baby around 20k words - clearly I failed. I can't seem to write a short fic to save my life! Not when it's an idea as in-depth as this one was in my head. Eventually I figured I'd just smash some chapters together into longer ones and go with that, which will shorten it from the 25 + epilogue that it ended up being. Everything is written, I'm just running through my final edits and chapter regroups, so I should be good to post every week, maybe twice a week if I get impatient! No more long waiting periods.
> 
> I'm excited to get back on the writing train, so I hope this one hits all the right spots, because it helped me find my motivation again.
> 
> As always, a huge thank you to [shineelocket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shineelocket) for being the best beta ever and for encouraging me to stay positive when shit went down, and to [jaysta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaysta) for literally being my rock - you guys are the best and I don't deserve you <3
> 
> Keep an eye on the notes for extra chapter warnings!

When you’ve been alive for countless centuries, it becomes difficult to be surprised – you’ve practically seen it all at that point. Nothing is new and everything is predictable. For this, Gavin was no exception; it was rare for him to find anything truly novel or that could catch him off guard enough to occupy his thoughts for more than a few weeks, months, years, or even decades. Finding something that really shocked him? Basically impossible.

Tonight though – tonight he legitimately thought he might be going a little crazy.

He’d heard news of a “large animal” wreaking havoc all over the city for the past few months, of course, but not once had he even entertained the idea that his fleeting thought of werewolves could be true. He hadn’t encountered a lycanthrope in over three hundred years! They were extremely rare in the best of times, yet here one was, laying wounded and bloody in the alley next to Gavin’s apartment, directly in front of him and barely five feet away. An absolutely _massive_ werewolf at that, its impressive teeth bared in a snarl.

To the uninformed it looked just like an extremely large wolf but to someone like Gavin, everything about it screamed ‘supernatural’; its gold eyes were too bright, too human, with teeth too sharp and fur too thick. And the way it stared at Gavin – there was a deep understanding in that gaze. Understanding and so, _so_ much anger. This creature couldn’t be anything but a werewolf.

Gavin had stumbled upon the scene in front of him on accident; the route for his usual midnight walks had been blocked by construction, leading him to take a couple back alleys in order to reach home. He’d been slightly distracted so he hadn’t noticed the wolf till he was uncomfortably near to it and a loud growl had pulled his attention to the matter at hand.

The werewolf had several long, ragged slices along its left side and another shorter one right across its muzzle, curiously still open and bleeding despite how they should have an enhanced healing speed – perhaps who had attacked it had used a special weapon meant for supernatural beings. Gavin didn’t dare take any more steps toward it even though he was truly curious and, admittedly, fairly concerned for the poor beast. What could have so severely harmed such a powerful creature?

“Strange to find a werewolf so deep in the city,” he called softly. _Strange to find a werewolf at all_. “And here I thought I knew all of the unnaturals who lived here.”

The werewolf’s low rumbling softened slightly, its overly wise eyes assessing Gavin carefully.

Gavin raised his hands placatingly. “I won’t harm you, friend, you have my word.” At this, he flashed his own fangs, the light from the nearby street glinting off their distinct points.

Apparently this was enough to convince the wolf to at least trust Gavin...for now. Maybe it already understood or at least sensed how intensely binding a vampire’s word was, or maybe it decided that Gavin not being strictly _human_ was good enough – it stopped its angry noises all together. Instead, it dropped its large head to the ground and _whined_.

“What happened to you,” Gavin whispered as he slowly approached, hands still held up in peace.

The wolf watched him move, its eyes never leaving Gavin as he crouched down to its level. When Gavin finally reached out and gently touched the area around the raw flesh, it jerked its massive head over and snapped its jaws, a deep snarl ripping from its throat; Gavin barely pulled back in time to avoid losing a limb, thankful for his inhuman speed.

“Alright now, there’s no need for that; I already told you that I mean you no harm. I even gave you my word.”

With eyes that seemed to say ‘ _don’t fuck this up_ ’, the beast calmed down once more, though it continued to stare at Gavin as he carefully put his hand back to move its fur aside and examine the damage.

“These are quite deep...” Gavin leaned back on his heels and sighed. “I suppose a vet is out of the question – and I’m willing to bet you heal faster in this form anyway, am I right?”

A short huff was the wolf’s reply, its head nodding in an intimately human manner. It had rumbled in its chest at the word “vet” but made no attempt to bite again. On unsteady legs, it tried to stand; Gavin quickly reached out to steady it, a frown on his face.

“Stop it! You’ll only make things worse.” He pushed the beast back to the ground where it groaned and started to pant heavily.

It was clearly in a lot of pain and, judging by the large pool of deep red it was laying in, had lost an unhealthy amount of blood; the heady scent of it all burned Gavin’s sinuses. Frown deepening, he stood again and glanced down the alleyway before looking back at the werewolf.

“You won’t like it but I’m going to have to carry you; can’t very well just leave you here, can I?” The wolf tilted its head to the side and made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a strained laugh. “Yeah yeah, you’re a big bad wolf, I know – but I can still lift you.” Gavin rolled his shoulders and pointed to the fire escape. “I live on the top floor, so you better brace yourself.”

Without much more preamble, he crouched down once more, looped his arms under his new acquaintance's sizable body, and hoisted it up with a small grunt. Even with his enhanced strength, the creature was _heavy_.

“You sure seem to be getting enough food,” he ground out as he walked over to the wall right below the fire escape.

Gavin was careful to not touch the metal, the iron essentially poison to both him and probably the werewolf – old fae nonsense or something like that. Instead of pulling the bottom ladder down, he bent his knees and _jumped_ , landing perfectly on the first platform. He continued like this up and up and up until the metal grating switched to solid balconies, the wolf whimpering quietly with every leap no matter how careful Gavin was trying to be. Even so, they reached the open patio outside his apartment within a minute, all 100 floors of skyscraper conquered without him getting too winded.

The glass door that led into his spacious living room remained unlocked – who needed to lock up when they lived so far up _and_ happened to be a deadly supernatural being? – so Gavin easily used his foot to slide it open and closed it the same way once inside. He gently laid the wolf onto the floor, heedless of the blood that would most definitely stain the carpet, and started walking towards the bathroom.

“I don’t have a first aid kit, as you can probably understand, but I can at least get you cleaned up a bit, make sure you’re comfortable while you rest.”

A soft woof was the only reply.

By the time Gavin came back with several towels, some dampened with warm water, the wounds on the werewolf’s side and face had already started to close up and heal. He began the delicate process of wiping away the blood that was partially dried in the surrounding fur, taking extra care when cleaning the cut on the wolf’s snout. As he did so, those intense golden eyes continued to stare at him with intense but unknowable emotion, exhaustion seeping in as time went on. Soon it could not longer hold out and fell asleep, all of its energy going into sealing its wounds.

Once he was done, Gavin moved the werewolf onto the couch and covered it with one of his large blankets, the thought crossing his mind that perhaps when it returned to human form it wouldn’t have any clothes on – he recalled seeing something like that, years and years ago. He retired to his study for the night when he was satisfied that he’d done all he could. A pleasant anticipation for the next day spread through him when he made one final glance back at the werewolf.

It had been a while since he’d had company.

...............................

Michael woke up covered in a large blanket, naked as the day he was born. Soft light was filtering through fluttering white curtains of the open, unfamiliar room he found himself in, the couch underneath his body wide and plush. If it weren’t for the dull ache in his side and across the bridge of his nose, he might have actually considered his whole situation quite comfortable; weirder things had happened to him, so why concern himself with waking up in a strange place when it could have been much worse?

With a gravely moan, Michael slowly sat up, the knitted blanket slipping off his shoulders and exposing his bare chest to the morning chill. The sound of a coffee maker percolating reached his sensitive ears from somewhere behind him, the lightly burnt scent permeating the air.

“Good morning.”

Michael practically jumped out of his skin, half falling off the couch; how had he not heard another person in the room with him? He could normally hear someone breathing from dozens of feet away or sense their heartbeat from even further.

“Jesus fuck!” He shouted, head whipping around to face the speaker and heart pounding like it might jump out of his chest.

A man he had only vague memories of sat on another couch with his long, sweatpants-covered legs crossed and an old-looking book resting in his lap. The angles of his face were sharp and attractive and his loose t-shirt exposed the wiry yet lithe muscles of his arms. He seemed to be around the same age as Michael but there was _something_ in his bright hazel eyes as he stared back without blinking, one eyebrow raised.

“How are you feeling?” The other man had a gentle tenor with a surprising English accent that somehow put Michael a little more at ease the more he spoke.

Michael pulled himself back onto the couch fully, the blanket now just barely covering his important bits; he’d never been shy about his body, so there was no reason to start now. “Like I got the shit kicked outta me.” He squinted as memories from the previous night slowly resurfaced in his mind. “You’re the bloodsucker who found me.”

The man stuck a bookmark in his book – was that a receipt?? – and set it on a side table, a wry smile on his face. “That was me, yes. You seem very relaxed about that.”

“Dude, I’m literally a werewolf – why would I be surprised by a vampire?” Michael settled back into the cushions and waved his hand around flippantly. “Besides, I’d rather another freak find me than a normie; I’m kinda done with animal control at this point.”

With a snort, an easy smile graced the features of the other man. “I’m Gavin.”

“Michael,” he replied with an answering smirk, legs splayed dangerously in front of him. “Not gonna lie though – I thought you’d be, I dunno...scarier.”

Gavin grinned, flashing molten red eyes and two sets of razor sharp fangs. “Would you prefer me like this?”

A jolt of nervous electricity raced through Michael at the sight. “Yeah, actually.”

“Interesting,” Gavin laughed, his features going back to the way they were before. He stood up and headed towards the kitchen. “Would you be interested in some coffee?”

Michael got up and followed, wrapping the blanket around his waist as a second thought. “I didn’t think vamps drank anything but the red stuff.”

Gavin gave him a scathing look as he poured coffee into a clean mug and handed it over. “I may not _need_ to but that doesn’t mean I can’t _enjoy_ the finer things in life.”

“Alright, alright, my bad.” Michael took a sip – now that was some strong coffee! Just how he liked it – and leaned one hip against the island counter. “You’re actually the first vampire I’ve ever met.” He paused, a thought suddenly striking him. “You are a vampire, right, not something else?”

There was humor in Gavin’s gaze when he responded. “I’m most definitely what is considered to be a vampire.” He took a drink from his own mug. “I must admit that you are the first werewolf I’ve met in a very long time.”

A note of pride colored Michael’s voice. “I’m not _technically_ a werewolf – I think shifter would be more accurate? Can’t change into anything but a wolf so, you know, I can see the confusion. Has nothing to do with the moon though, at least not that I’ve noticed.”

“Interesting,” Gavin observed. “I think the last werewolf I encountered _was_ affected by the moon phases. I wonder what makes you different?”

Michael shrugged. “Probably different species or something.” He took another drink, the caffeine gradually starting to make him feel more awake. “If dogs came from wolves, why can’t shifters have come from true werewolves?”

“That’s a very good point, actually.”

“Besides,” Michael continued while gesturing to Gavin with his mug. “I thought vampires couldn’t handle the sun? You’re clearly standing right in a sunbeam and you’re not burning up.”

Indeed, Gavin was positioned smack dab in the middle of a wide beam of sunlight, none of his exposed skin looking affected at all. In fact, he actually had a soft tan on his subtly olive skin. “Ah, right; there are so many stories about my kind that aren’t exactly true.” He laughed quietly into his cup, a small cloud of steam puffing over the rim as he took a drink. “Although I do seem to remember meeting some that were sensitive to garlic, but that may have just been a food allergy.”

“Hey, I’m cool with whatever kind of monster you are, as long as you don’t do anything weird to me.” Michael set his empty mug down on the counter. “Speaking of, thanks for helping me out – I don’t think I’d have died but you saved me a lot of trouble.”

Gavin gave him that gentle smile again. “I’m glad I could be of some help.”

Michael looked down at the low slung blanket on his waist, the mostly healed wounds on his side a startling pink against his pale skin. “You got any spare pants?”

................................

The next evening came around and Gavin sat patiently as the professor enthusiastically rambled on at the front of the lecture hall about the differences and similarities between Icelandic and Irish fairies. This particular class would give him the last three credits he needed for the (twenty second? twenty third?) history degree he’d been working on in his spare time but he really didn’t need to concentrate too much; hadn’t he lived through most of the things he was “learning” about anyway? He’d normally be paying closer attention – he actually really liked this class, mostly due to the professor himself – but his mind was preoccupied with what Michael had said about the possibility of different werewolf species.

It made sense, it really did; after all, over all the years he’d been walking the earth Gavin had found that most of the stories and myths people told about various fantastical creatures were false, or at least not as extreme as described. Some vampires that he had met, for instance, really were sensitive to sunlight, though he wasn’t so sure that it wasn’t simply because they had already been super pale when they’d been alive. And he’d met several different types of fae who could do absolutely _nothing_ with a name like the stories said. Even the few other werewolves he’d spoken to had told him completely different methods for which they’d been turned.

Halfway through the lecture, Gavin made the decision to broach the subject with the professor after class. He honestly seemed like a genuine man who had no motives beyond an actual passion for the subject and Gavin felt confident that he would at least have some interesting ideas. The class itself was supposed to be on the history of the Anglo-Saxons but the man constantly got sidetracked by other more interesting topics, and the students had no problem getting him to go on one of his tangents. They were always far more interesting than the study material anyway.

Once class was over and students started to filter out of the room, Gavin slid his unused notebook back into his backpack and zipped it up. He slung it over his shoulder and made his way to the front of the room, his casual clothes and youthful face stuck permanently in his late 20s meaning he stood out only a little among the college crowd. The professor looked up from where he was organizing his own things when Gavin reached him.

“Ah, what can I do for you, Mr...?”

“Free.”

The professor nodded his head. “Mr. Free.”

Dr. Johann Adleman was a spry man, perhaps in his mid to late fifties, with graying hair and a salt-and-pepper beard that lay neat and trim on his long face. He always showed up to lectures impeccably dressed in tailored suits and expensive-looking leather shoes. There was something about him that exuded a quiet confidence subdued by a generally calm attitude. He smelled like soap and patchouli.

“I was wondering if I could discuss some things with you, professor,” Gavin answered with mostly false eagerness. “You’ve spoken in the past about supernatural beings and I was hoping to maybe go more in depth about some with you? I’ve always been interested in that kind of stuff but never really had the opportunity to talk to anybody else about it.”

With a kind smile and curious eyes, Dr. Adleman put the last of his things into his briefcase and swept his arm out in front of him. “Then by all means, let us go to my office and have a chat.” His slight German accent tinged his voice. “I will not be able to stay for too long – I have animals that need taking care of – but I would be happy to indulge for a little while. It is not often that a student wishes to, eh, chat with me about things beyond the assigned curriculum.”

So Gavin followed the professor out of the lecture hall and down the hallway to his small office. The door was unlocked and the two men stepped inside. Gavin looked around the room while Dr. Adleman put his stuff down.

“You’ve got quite an extensive knowledge of the paranormal,” Gavin commented idly.

Dr. Adleman’s mouth quirked as he sat down behind his desk, tweed jacket hung on a hook off to the side. “History is my job; cryptology and monsters are my real interests.”

“I must say, professor,” Gavin started, sitting in the chair opposite. “You’re the first person to come anywhere near to the truth on a few things.”

“Oh?” The other man leaned forward and steepled his hands. “And how is that?”

Gavin mirrored his movements. “A few weeks ago you spoke about vampiric myths and got a couple things very wrong. You’re mistaken about a vampire’s need for constant feeding, for one.” He grinned, careful to not let his fangs descend just yet. “They can’t turn into bats either, unfortunately. Other than that, you’re pretty damn close with most of the other things you talked about.”

There was a considering look on Dr. Adleman’s face as he leaned back and looked at Gavin, his now clasped hands sat in his lap. “Is that so.” He tilted his head slightly and Gavin could hear his heartbeat pick up speed the tiniest amount. “Tell me, Mr. Free – from where did you gain so much knowledge that you should be this confident?”

Gavin shrugged, eyes flashing red for a fraction of a second. “Experience.”

“I see.” For a moment, the professor did not move, just stared. His pulse quickened some more but he did not smell of fear. Then, with all the nonchalance of someone who knows they’re in the room with a deadly predator but holds no real fear, he stood up and turned his back on Gavin. His hand fluttered over the old books on the overstuffed shelves behind his desk. “How many times have you been to University, Mr. Free?”

Ah, just as Gavin had suspected – Dr. Adleman was a true believer. “Oh, quite a few, I think. Though, the times at the very beginning couldn’t very well have counted for much; things were a bit different back then.”

When the professor turned back around, his eyes were bright and he held an extremely old leather-bound tome. “I am glad that you have chosen to continue to learn; education is a wonderful privilege.” He placed the book on the desk in front of Gavin and sat down. “How old were you when you were turned?”

“29, if I remember correctly.” Gavin paused. He didn’t, in fact, remember; it was somewhere around there though, he was pretty sure. “Aren’t you going to ask me how old I really am?”

“Mr. Free,” Dr. Adleman said with a mock-scandalized expression. “I have finally met one of the supernatural beings that I have been so fascinated by for my whole life – even when no one believed me when I said they were real – and you think I would ask such a personal question?”

Gavin couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “You must have so many questions.”

“I cannot begin to describe to you how wonderful this is! You must be an absolute reliquary of knowledge! I am surprised that you signed up for my course in the first place.”

“I enjoy keeping up with popular theories and how accurate people have things.” The corners of Gavin’s eyes crinkled. “Your class in particular was of interest to me – I lived among the Saxons for a time.”

The professor’s eyes lit up with increased interest and he began to speak in an odd sounding language, familiar to an outsider but only as if in a distant memory. “ _How long for you did_ _there_ _live?”_

There was humor in Gavin’s voice when he responded in the same tongue. “ _Your Old English is surprisingly strong yet you have a few errors._ ”

“This is wonderful,” the older man decreed. “What stories you might tell!”

“I was merely an observer, you see.” Gavin smiled wistfully. “You should have met my friend Beowulf.”

The look of complete shock on Dr. Adleman’s face was priceless. “Beo- ah, pardon me – Beowulf? As in the character? But that was just a story!”

Gavin lifted an eyebrow. “You of all people should have a more open mind about these things, professor.”

Dr. Adleman shook his head slightly. “Does this mean that-”

“Yes,” Gavin interrupted. “Grendel was also very much real. Real nasty thing, though not nearly as bad as his mother.”

“Incredible,” Dr. Adleman murmured to himself, seeming to take a moment to process everything before moving on suddenly. He pointed to the book on the desk. “This is where I gathered most of my information on vampires; perhaps you would like to study the entire work and inform me of other inaccuracies I might have picked up? It took me years to track down a copy and would be a shame if it were as faulty as you claim.”

“I might be persuaded.” Gavin glanced back at the bookshelves. “You wouldn’t happen to have any information on werewolves, would you? I’m working on a new theory.”

Dr. Adleman’s smile grew and his heartbeat picked up again, excitement clear on his face. “How specific of a historical period or location would you prefer? I have many options.”

Gavin hummed to himself. “Surprise me.”


	2. We Need To Stop Meeting Like This

“- _and that marks the fifth_ _body found_ _in three weeks._ _Officials haven’t stated whether or not they think these cases are connected but sources have confirmed that the similarities between cause of death are too numerous to rule out a serial offender-”_

Gavin turned off the TV.

It had been a week since he’d last seen Michael and Gavin had only just admitted to himself that he _might_ want to see him again and now there were clearly hunters in the city; every single victim had been someone that Gavin knew to be inhuman and only a skilled monster hunter could be the source of such a ‘coincidence’. The latest body belonged to a soft-spoken kitsune that used to paint beautiful watercolors on Vespucci, and only 8 days prior to that it had been a fae he recognized from the night market in the international district. Gavin couldn’t help but be a little worried; he’d only just met Michael but there was an instinctual pull towards him that Gavin couldn’t ignore.

It was therefor a bit of a drag that the werewolf hadn’t left so much as a phone number to contact him by. And to top it off, he still had Gavin’s clothes.

Deciding to not dwell on it too much – Michael was an adult, he could take care of himself – Gavin got up off the couch and made his way into his bedroom. Despite popular theory, vampires did indeed sleep. At least, Gavin did; he might not need as much as the average human but he got rather cranky if he didn’t get at least four hours every night. He also didn’t sleep in a coffin – he liked his king sized bed far too much to sacrifice it in the name of aesthetics.

While he got changed for bed, Gavin hummed an old Thai folk song to himself, his conversation with Dr. Adleman from after class earlier that evening sparking memories of his time living in Mueang Thai during the 17th century. They had been discussing spirits and ghosts and it had made Gavin slightly homesick for a people he hadn’t seen in centuries. At least this particular memory was still sharp enough to remember their songs.

He had just slipped under the covers when a series of loud scratching sounds came from his front door. Immediately, Gavin was on high alert, both sets of fangs dropping low and eyes shifting into their startling crimson. The lights were off in his apartment but he could see perfectly, almost as if the rooms were filled with bright sunlight. He listened carefully as he silently made his way to the door; a slow heartbeat pulsed on the other side, steady and even.

A few more scratching noises and then a dull _thunk_ came about thirty seconds later. Gavin stood up from his crouch, looked through the peep hole, and there in the hallway was an utterly filthy and soaking wet wolf. He sighed heavily and opened the door.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Michael just looked at him from his seated position and let his tongue loll out of his wide mouth, looking for all the world like a happy puppy who had just rolled in a puddle. This interpretation was made even more accurate by the fact that he was, indeed, completely covered in mud.

Gavin let out another loud sigh and moved away from the door to let Michael in. “How did you even get in the building like that?” The werewolf didn’t bother trying to respond and sauntered into the apartment like he lived there, muddy paw prints following behind him on the wood floor. “Fine, whatever, just don’t get mud on the carp-”

It was too late; Michael looked at him as sheepishly as a wolf could and slowly removed his one paw from the edge of the living room carpet.

“Great. Just great. It was hard enough getting your blood out and now this.” Gavin rubbed his face with both hands, suddenly much more tired than he had been before. “Transform back already so you can at least take a shower.”

“Way ahead of you, Dracula.”

When Gavin removed his hands from his face, all he saw was the mud-covered, absolutely buck naked backside of a now-human Michael walking down the hallway towards the bathroom. Gavin felt warmth fill his gut at the sight and quickly looked away. Why was that man so shameless? The sound of the shower being turned on reached him, a series of happy little sounds echoing down the hall. Suddenly, the couch looked very inviting and Gavin flopped carelessly down and stared at the ceiling, groaning as he realized the not-so-pure direction his thoughts were going in.

He sat there for who knows how long before a thankfully towel-covered and still damp Michael emerged from the bathroom, steam billowing out behind him. The scars from the first night they’d met were all but gone by that point, the one on his face barely visible. His curly hair dripped down his bare chest and Gavin had to make a conscious effort to not stare.

“If you don’t want me wandering around your apartment naked, I’m gonna need to borrow some clothes again.”

Gavin huffed and got up. “You have a funny definition of ‘borrow’; borrowing implies intent to return. What happened to what I gave you last time?” He’d lent him some stretched out athletic shorts that he hadn’t worn in years.

Michael shrugged. “Left ‘em at my, uh, home base. I don’t really need them when I shift, do I? Besides, I do _intend_ on returning them. Eventually.”

Back in his bedroom, Gavin grabbed the first clean pair of sweatpants he could find. He chucked them at Michael when he returned. “Well, don’t make this a habit; I don’t actually own many clothes that’ll fit your frame properly.”

“I’ll bring them back at some point, Scout’s honor.” Michael dropped the towel right there in the middle of the room and Gavin thought he might have a heart attack if his supernatural heart would allow such a thing. “I do appreciate your help though, really.”

True to what Gavin had said, the sweatpants didn’t really fit Michael’s more muscular frame; they were tighter at the thighs and sat low on his waist to make room, the V of his hips prominent.

Mistakes had been made.

Pulling himself back into the present, Gavin walked into the kitchen and pulled out some cereal from one of the cupboards and milk from the fridge, pouring himself and Michael a bowl. The younger man grinned wolfishly (ha!) and greedily swooped in to grab his serving. He hopped up onto the island counter across from where Gavin was leaning and dug in, humming happily upon the first bite.

“’ow’d you know I wah stharvin’?” He asked with his mouth full.

Gavin finished chewing and swallowed before responding. “I could hear your stomach growling from all the way out here.”

Michael looked at him with wide eyes, then glanced down at his belly with a laugh. “Yeah, I haven’t eaten in, like, two days? Ran outta granola bars last week.”

“What??”

“Eh, it’s nothing,” the werewolf said, completely ignoring how shocked Gavin must have looked at the revelation. “I go longer, sometimes, depending on if I’ve got the cash. Been sleeping in my car for a while and there’s no way to keep food in there for too long.” He took another huge mouthful of cereal, this time chewing through most of it before speaking again. “Being a werewolf isn’t exactly a _job_ , you know.”

Once, when Gavin was maybe around 600 or so years old, he’d met a young boy who reminded him of Michael; his name had been Ahmes, twelve at the time, and had only been in Gavin’s life for a day but had left an imprint so strong that he recalled it even now. Ahmes had been a street urchin in Cairo, scrabbling around for any and all scraps he could find, thinner than anyone his age should be, and he had smiled so brightly at Gavin while the vampire bought fruit at an open market stall that Gavin had been unable to resist giving him half of his purchase. The little boy had unabashedly devoured each and every fruit right in front of him within minutes. When he was finished, he had looked at Gavin and said _thank you, that will last me another four days at least!_ before running off without looking back, sounding for all the world like nothing was wrong with what he’d just said.

Gavin couldn’t help but think of Ahmes as he watched Michael finish his bowl of cereal, easily handing over the whole box when he saw the younger man stare at it longingly.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” Gavin hadn’t meant to blurt that out but there was no going back on it now.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

Michael observed him cautiously from his perch on the counter, chewing slowly. He still smelled slightly of wet dog but there was no hint of real fear in him. When he finished his bite, he set the bowl down and glared at Gavin. “What’s your angle?”

“What?” Gavin said dumbly for the second time in as many minutes.

“What do you want from me if I stay? A long drag from my carotid, maybe?”

Gavin flinched. “ _No_ ,” he said with feeling. “I just want to – you need a place to stay, and I have a really nice couch-”

“I remember.”

“-and I’ve got plenty of food. You can stay the night, eat something solid for breakfast, and then be on your way.” Gavin schooled his features into an expression of calm. “You obviously don’t have to, I know that we’re still strangers, but I’d like to help if you’ll let me.”

Michael took a deep breath and let it all out slowly. Then he slipped off the counter, grabbed both of their bowls, and moved to put them in the dishwasher. “Alright,” he said once he was done. “But you better have more than just cereal for breakfast tomorrow.”

Something settled deep in Gavin’s stomach. “I’ve been told I make a mean scramble.”

It was easy after that to gather blankets for Michael’s makeshift couch bed. The younger man seemed perfectly content with the situation and was out like a light not a minute after shooting a quick _see ya in the mornin’, bitey_ to Gavin as the older man walked towards his room. It must have been the fact that he was a werewolf that made Michael so relaxed now – there had been a certain confidence in his gaze from the very beginning.

In his bedroom, Gavin let himself fall backwards onto his bed to stare blankly off into space. _What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time, Free?_

................................

For the second time in a little over a week, Michael woke underneath a warm blanket in a strange room. This time though he at least had pants on and could remember where he was.

_Gavin’s apartment._

He hadn’t known exactly why he’d gone to the vampire last night – it’d just seemed like what he should do in his particular situation. Like it or not, Michael felt comfortable here, no matter if he didn’t even know Gavin’s last name; this was a safe place and there weren’t many of those in Michael’s life right now.

The smell of coffee filtered through the air, filling Michael with a strong sense of deja vu along with a pang of hunger. All that was needed to be an almost perfect repeat of last time was-

“Good morning.”

“Fuck!” Michael shouted, fully falling off the couch this time. Why hadn’t he bothered checking his surroundings first thing after waking up? He was usually so much better about that! “Would it kill you to make a little noise first? You gotta warn a guy!”

When Michael followed the sound of a low chuckle, he saw Gavin standing near the kitchen island with two mugs of coffee in his hands. He was already dressed in a pair of fitted jeans and a charcoal gray Henley. His socks had little green rubber duckies on them.

“Sorry, I figured you’d be able to hear me moving around. With your, you know-”

Michael snorted and forced himself up off the ground and back onto the cushions. “Special dog ears? Yeah, no, they’re not as good first thing in the morning, and you’re a real quiet fucker.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

There was a _next time_ hidden in there and Michael couldn’t piece together how he felt about it. Not bad, though. No, definitely not bad.

He got up from the couch, borrowed sweatpants sliding down a little; Michael didn’t bother hitching them back up. Gavin seemed to be purposefully avoiding glancing anywhere near where they rested on his hips. _Interesting_.

“Is one of those for me?” Michael inquired as he walked to the kitchen.

“No,” Gavin replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “I drink two cups of coffee in the morning but each of them is prepared differently so I can keep things interesting.” He said even as he handed Michael one of the steaming mugs.

“I appreciate your sacrifice.”

They stood in silence for a few minutes and Michael used this time to slowly wake himself up. The quiet didn’t make him feel awkward and it gave him a chance to finally take in his surroundings; the mud tracks on the floor were gone (though the dirty stain on the carpet still remained, faded but still noticeable), two of the walls in the large room were taken up by windows covered with cream colored curtains, and an extensive record collection was situated on dark shelves behind one of the couches. The entire wall perpendicular with the kitchen was taken up by a huge book shelf, what must have been hundreds of various novels of varying condition stacked neatly within them.

And scattered throughout the room were an odd assortment of artifacts and knickknacks ranging from fairly new to practically ancient. On one of the side tables in the living room, Michael swore he saw a grainy photograph of Gavin standing with what looked suspiciously like a battalion of WWI soldiers, and on the wall behind it was a framed piece with cracked paint depicting a garden scene with what appeared to be several other people enjoying a meal together, Gavin at the center of the table, looking for all the world like it belonged in a museum.

Just how old was he?

Michael’s thoughts were interrupted by Gavin moving behind him, almost like he was purposefully making more noise than he normally would; he was pulling things out of the fridge, a pan already on the stove. “How many eggs would you like?”

Michael’s stomach growled as if it was listening too. “As many as you’re willing to part with.”

Gavin meticulously pulled together an assortment of vegetables along with a sizable slab of thick-cut bacon. He cut everything up while the meat was frying, then dumped the veggies into the pan, followed by the eggs and some unknown spices. It smelled _incredible_.

When it was all done, the older man set a plate down in front of Michael that was piled high with at least eighty percent of the pan.

“Are you trying to fatten me up or something?” Michael asked, a heaping forkful of scramble already halfway to his mouth.

With a raised eyebrow, Gavin sat down at the counter. “I don’t eat animals.” At Michael’s glare, Gavin grinned sharply and took a bite of eggs. “Besides – I already had a nice filling meal two nights ago.”

Realization struck Michael and he choked on his food; the vampire’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he silently laughed.

The rest of breakfast went quietly, though it didn’t last long since Gavin had a small serving and Michael practically inhaled his. Once again, Michael took care of the dishes, his host content to stay seated and enjoy his second cup of coffee. It was inevitable that they would have to talk about why exactly Michael was there but they both seemed reluctant to start the conversation.

Eventually, Michael poured his own second cup and sat down next to Gavin. He put on a fake business man voice and stared the older man down. “I bet you’re wondering why I brought you here today.”

Gavin schooled his features but a smile tugged at the edge of his mouth. “The thought had indeed crossed my mind, yes.”

“Right, well, it’s pretty dumb, so prepare yourself.” Michael slouched on the stool and held his mug with both hands. “You’re gonna think I’m a poor excuse of a werewolf.”

The vampire turned in his seat to look at Michael more straight on. “Try me.”

For a moment, Michael said nothing; he rubbed his thumbs against the smooth sides of his cup, sliding them across black letters that spelled ‘ _espresso yourself!_ ’. As he finally spoke, there was a tint of self deprecation in his voice. “Somethin’s been following me.”

A flash of worry crossed Gavin’s face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Michael said, stretching his words out and scowling. “I haven’t been able to get back to my car for a few days. I keep feeling like I’m being watched and I swear I saw somebody following me yesterday while I was looking for food. I wasn’t even in wolf form – it just felt like they could tell, ya know?”

Gavin shifted more towards him, his eyes intense. “You need to be more careful – there are hunters out there who would love to see you dead.”

He’d originally thought that it had been the police that attacked him the week previously but when he actually considered it, Michael supposed that cops probably wouldn’t use blades like those that had caused his injuries, especially since they had taken so long to heal. “That’s probably who got me the other night, then.”

“Don’t do anything reckless until I can figure out who’s doing this.”

Michael laughed at the serious expression on Gavin’s face. “What? Like you’re some sort of vigilante hero, protector of the local monster population?” The expression on Gavin’s face didn’t change. “Holy shit, you’re serious!”

“This _is_ serious, Michael, you could get hur-”

“Oh my god, I just realized – you’re a vampire – you’re _literally batman_.” He was practically giggling at that point.

The Brit huffed indignantly. “I don’t think – that’s not-”

“Can I see your Batmobile? Oh, wait – where’s Alfred?”

Gavin was clearly getting flustered. “You still haven’t told me why you showed up at my apartment last night!”

“Deflecting, I see – smooth.” Michael took a few seconds to pause his laughing, not actually sure how he could explain his thought process from the night before; he’d felt in danger and had been running for hours, and the first place he could think of to hide had been Gavin’s place. “I dunno, it just feels safe here, I guess.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “It felt like the smartest decision.”

At first, Michael thought he was seeing things – the lightest tint of pink appeared on Gavin’s cheeks and he averted his eyes. Could vampires blush? Because this one certainly was doing just that. Something in Michael’s chest twitched.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Gavin muttered, not looking at him anymore, too focused on staring at what must have been a particularly interesting coffee swirl in his mug.

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to the fluffy words,” Michael grumbled while standing up, filled with the desire to break whatever weird tension that had formed between them. “I’m gonna go back to my car today and move it somewhere new, hopefully figure a way to lose whoever’s following me, maybe cause some trouble while I’m out and about.”

Gavin stood to collect the mugs. “As I said, don’t take too many chances.”

Trying for a cocky smirk, Michael folded his arms across his chest and watched as the other man cleaned up. “Aw, worried about me, old man?”

“Yes, actually,” the vampire admitted, appearing almost shocked himself that he’d said it.

It was Michael’s turn to flush slightly; he turned away and stalked into the living room. “I’m a big bad wolf, remember? I’ll be fine.” Desperate to change the subject, he glanced down at his bare chest, for the first time fully aware of just how much skin was on display. “If you really wanna help though, I could use another shirt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was mostly just a filler chapter, so I'm so sorry about that. Expect shenanigans to ensue very soon!
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading, come yell with me on [Tumblr](http://toasterness.tumblr.com) <3


	3. Terrible Aliases And Sleepless Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight TW: there is a short scene at the start of this chapter that mentions attempted sexual assault - don't worry, he gets what's coming to him. Stop reading after "...but at least now he could say these ones deserved it." and pick right back up at "She hadn’t needed to be told twice." to avoid it. Stay safe out there! <3

After that second instance of using his apartment as a sort of safehouse, Gavin had insisted on dropping Michael off directly at his car instead of just letting him leave after he was given clothes, especially since he was apparently being followed. He also asked that they exchange phone numbers in case Michael ran into anymore trouble. _Call me if anything happens_ , Gavin had said. Michael had rolled his eyes and saluted.

Small victories.

With things as they were, Gavin could do nothing but hope that the werewolf actually contacted him if something occurred or if he was in danger again. It wasn’t like they were anything more than casual friends at best, yet Gavin couldn’t help but feel a strong pull towards Michael, like the universe was trying to tell him something in a language that he didn’t understand – and he spoke over three dozen languages.

He slipped back into his current normal routine after that; work on commissions and pieces for his gallery – he’d taken the time to convince Da Vinci to give him some pointers, so why not utilize them? – go to Dr. Adleman’s class and his office afterward for discussions, and then wander the streets at night dressed in all black and hooded, nightmare of the city and protector of those who couldn’t defend themselves. The public had started to call him the Night Stalker after several people reported various close encounters and he’d just let the silly name spread.

The first time he’d gone out after Michael’s impromptu sleepover, the werewolf’s words had flashed in his head: maybe he really was Batman. Shit.

Los Santos had been his home for a little over a decade now and Gavin was happy. He had centuries of wealth stashed away in various places under various names, so he could live comfortably without having to do much, but he enjoyed the thrill of it all, didn’t he? The hunt, the inevitable capture, the kill – he was a monster, after all. And no matter how much he changed over the years, from healer to wicked king, raider to teacher, he always seemed to come back to the Gavin who hated those that attacked the weak and defenseless, refusing to let bitterness invade his soul again. Nowadays he specialized in taking down corruption using technological means but Los Santos would always be a home for those who preferred a more direct approach to justice. He would never be able to forget the countless lives he had ended, often in cold blood, but at least now he could say these ones deserved it.

Like the would-be rapist’s neck he currently had his jaws wrapped around, bent to the side for ease of access to the pulsing veins underneath such thin skin.

Gavin had caught him just as he was about to commit one of the most vile acts a human could. He’d pulled his hood down lower to cover his face and jumped down from a nearby roof into the bar parking lot where the sorry excuse for a man had a woman trapped up against a car. The woman had screamed when she saw Gavin but he’d continued to stalk closer, mind raging. With speed no human could produce, Gavin had snarled and pulled the man backward by the hair.

“ _Run_ ,” he’d growled at the woman. She hadn’t needed to be told twice.

When she made it far enough away, Gavin had slipped the hood up a little so he could hungrily sink his teeth into the attacker’s jugular. The man’s struggles and shouts of surprise and anger had subsided almost immediately as the venom from Gavin’s fangs quickly paralyzed him. Soon the only sounds came from the ripping of flesh and the messy gurgling coming from the man’s mouth as he slowly died.

At the point where he couldn’t hear a heartbeat, Gavin unceremoniously dropped the body to the ground for the police to find in the morning. No evidence would be left behind or discovered; he wore gloves and his DNA wasn’t human, his bite marks more violent tearing than traditional vampire pinpricks, so what was there to find? He licked his lips, savoring the slick heat of the blood staining his face. There was no other feeling quite like being completely full and satiated; he felt warm all over and a little fuzzy, almost like being drunk.

His pocket vibrated. Gavin carelessly wiped his mouth with his sleeve and pulled the device from his pocket, not quite sure who in the world would be contacting him this late at night. Hell, he wasn’t sure who would be contacting him at all; he really didn’t stay in contact with many people. Then the name ‘Michael’ flashed on the screen and the corner of Gavin’s mouth quirked upward.

It was a text message with a dark and grainy picture of a scruffy looking dog in a random front yard with the simple caption ‘ _my cousin_ ’. Gavin huffed out a small laugh and typed back a response: ‘ _you have the same eyes_ ’. He shut his phone screen off and put it back in his pocket before walking away from the gruesome scene he’d created, careful to not step into the leftover blood splattered and pooling on the ground.

Things had been going on like this for several weeks now – Michael would send him random texts of silly things he saw around the city and Gavin would reply with a sarcastic quip. Once, he had received a photo of a small bat tucked away in the eaves of an old house with ‘ _stop stalking me_ ’ in the message underneath. That one had really made Gavin laugh.

Michael was sporadic in his messages but at least nothing seemed to be amiss. He would still sometimes show up unannounced at Gavin’s apartment door late at night, a little dirty but no worse for wear – more often than not (and unfortunately for Gavin’s heart) completely naked. He’d act like nothing was wrong and Gavin would let him get cleaned up in his bathroom, supply him with dry clothes, and leave him to sleep on the couch. It became so common that Gavin eventually went out and stocked up on clothing in Michael’s size and his favorite foods just so he could be prepared. Not once did the younger man ever exhibit fear or apprehension; everything about his actions indicated that he was comfortable in Gavin’s home. Which was...nice. Yeah.

Tonight’s text seemed no different from any of the others, just a silly picture, but it still calmed some of Gavin’s nerves that he forced himself not to acknowledge; Michael was fine, there was nothing wrong. It added to the lightness already spreading through him after his feast as he leapt back onto the roof he’d been lurking on earlier and began his silent journey home.

Like he did most nights after a successful hunt, Gavin entered his apartment through the balcony door – it was best not to scare his neighbors with his bloody clothes and face. He was looking forward to a hot bath and his soft sheets. What he failed to notice, however, was that the lights in his living room were already on.

“Holy shit, you’re him.”

It was Gavin’s turn to be scared half witless by someone else being in the living room because there, lounging haphazardly on the chaise, was a slightly shower-damp Michael wearing nothing but boxer briefs and one of Gavin’s favorite over-sized sweaters.

He pulled back his hood and glared at the other man. “How the hell did you get in here.”

“First, that’s a pretty rude way to greet a friend,” Michael admonished while sitting up, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Second, I used the front door? You really need to get better locks. And third, _holy shit you’re the_ _Night Stalker_.”

Gavin suddenly felt very self-conscious, acutely aware that his fangs were still down but still too fresh from the hunt to retract them just yet. “You’re the one who keeps calling me Batman.”

Michael practically cackled. “Yeah but I didn’t actually think you were literally the most dangerous man in Los Santos!” His smile widened. “I can’t believe I’ve been staying over at your house this whole time and not known.”

“I never forced you to keep coming back,” Gavin grumbled.

There was a certain type of smugness in Michael’s gaze as he stood to walk closer. “No but I’m glad I do – I’d have missed this whole _vigilante_ development.”

Something in Gavin’s chest tightened and his fingers twitched. “I might as well just give you a key at this point.”

“Nah, that would take all the fun out of it.” Michael tilted his head and reached a hand up to Gavin’s face. “You’ve got a little something right here-”

Lightning sparked on Gavin’s skin at the contact, Michael’s thumb wiping away what must have been leftover blood. But then the younger man’s eyes widened and he jerked back, almost like he’d just become aware of what he was doing. Gavin stood there with his mouth slightly agape, not moving, mind racing.

“Uhhh,” Michael said intelligently. “Right. So.” He rubbed the back of his neck and Gavin couldn’t help but glance down at the tiny strip of skin exposed at his waist as he stepped away. “Sorry for stealing your clothes and breaking into your apartment and startling you and-”

“Michael,” Gavin interrupted with a slightly rough voice. “It’s ok, I don’t mind.”

“Good. Ok. Yeah, good.”

Silence stretched awkwardly between them. Gavin’s thoughts were all jumbled and he kept feeling phantom fingers on his cheek, right next to his mouth. Michael was looking anywhere but at him and the air felt thick around them. It was unbearable.

 _Fuck it_ , Gavin thought, taking a shaky breath; he needed to get out of there. “I’m going to take a shower.”

The look on Michael’s face spoke of relief. “Yup, mhmm, I’ll just – uhh-”

“Help yourself to the ice cream in the freezer; I bought moose tracks yesterday – you said that was your favorite.”

“Cool cool cool.”

As soon as Gavin closed the door to the bathroom, he put his hands on the counter and leaned forward to stare into the mirror. It was times like this that he wished the rumors that vampires didn’t have a reflection were true; he hated seeing his face this red and it not be from a feeding. Gently, he brushed his own fingers over where Michael’s had been, little smears of blood stark against his skin. He really was a mess, wasn’t he?

................................

What was he doing.

 _What_ was he _doing_??

Michael couldn’t sleep. How could he sleep when he kept remembering how ridiculous he was being? Why had he decided that breaking into Gavin’s home – a vampire _and_ a deadly antihero, apparently – was a good idea? And then! And then Michael had just gone and touched him like that?? Honestly, he might as well have thrown himself off the balcony.

Yes, Michael thought the older man was unfairly attractive and yes, he felt safer in this apartment than anywhere else, but there was absolutely no good reason for him to act the way he had.

He replayed it in his head over and over and over: the Night Stalker coming in through the sliding door and then revealing Gavin underneath; Gavin’s face smeared with crimson and eyes still burning red; Gavin’s terrifying double set of fangs peeking out when he spoke; Gavin’s soft skin as Michael wiped away some of the blood without thinking-

A groan escaped Michael’s throat and he turned to hide his face in his pillow. Which, regrettably, was also a mistake because it was technically Gavin’s pillow so therefore smelled like the man himself – lemongrass, sandalwood, and something that reminded him of a forest right after it rained. Michael turned back around and stared at the ceiling, cursing his decision to not wear one of the shirts meant specifically for him; the sweater smelled like the vampire too.

But hadn’t Gavin also been checking him out every time he was there anyway? Or at least trying (and completely failing) to hide that he was staring? Michael was absolutely sure that he’d caught Gavin looking at his bare legs earlier that night too. Maybe it had all started with Michael simply unable to avoid the fact that he always shifted in the nude to avoid ruining his clothes but Gavin’s reactions were always so funny to see, so he’d continued to be shameless. Only now didit feellike he was the butt of his own joke.

Despite how comfortable he was – and clean and fed and content – Michael just couldn’t seem to fall asleep at all. He may have dozed off a couple times but it seemed like forever before dawn was breaking and the light from outside filtered through the curtains. There were no sounds coming from Gavin’s room, so Michael figured the other man must still be asleep. He resigned himself to being exhausted all day and turned the TV on at low volume; might as well get caught up on the news while he was awake.

About an hour later, after the early morning news anchors had reported the latest stories twice and gone over the weather (mostly sunny with a chance of rain later in the afternoon), Michael heard movement from Gavin’s room. He turned the TV off and rose to make coffee for the two of them; it was usually Gavin who did that but Michael figured it was far passed his turn to be helpful.

As soon as Michael saw Gavin enter the kitchen a few minutes later, his stomach did a funny little flip; there was something about seeing the vampire in pajama pants and a ratty t-shirt, hair all mussed up and pillow creases on his face. How this man could be the most feared person in the city, Michael would never understand.

Gavin looked over gratefully at the steaming coffee pot. “Mornin’.”

“Morning.” Michael’s brain may have been sluggish from lack of sleep but he could still tell that something was off. “Shouldn’t you be, I dunno, a bit livelier? Looked like you had a nice meal last night.”

The older man grimaced. “I think I drank too much; got a bit of a hangover.”

“You do look kinda dead.” Michael said offhandedly; Gavin looked up at him, unamused. “Oh shit – sorry-”

Thank whatever god was out there that the coffee finished brewing just a few seconds later. Michael hastily poured each of them a cup and immediately went to sit down at the counter, wracking his brain for something else to talk about. Why was he so good at making conversations awkward?

Then he remembered one of the stories he’d watched on the TV earlier.

“News says a woman was assaulted last night but got rescued by a scary man in a hood,” he remarked before taking a scalding sip of coffee. “Said he ripped the guy’s throat out.”

Gavin stared at him from over the rim of his mug. “Your point?”

“I mean, that was you, wasn’t it? That’s where you satisfied your munchies.”

“Don’t say it like-” Gavin scrunched up his face. “I only feed on those that deserve it and trust me, that guy deserved it.”

Michael took another drink. “Don’t worry, I’m not disagreeing with you on that.” He grinned devilishly. “Not like I haven’t ever taken a bite out of some piece of shit who thought they could do whatever they wanted.”

A small smile crept over Gavin’s face and Michael found himself thinking _there it is_ , which, what was that all about? The two of them drank in silence for a few minutes, the weird tension from the night before long gone; instead there lingered a strange warmth that made everything seem a little _softer_. The pleasantness was only interrupted by Michael’s stomach loudly grumbling.

“Ah, I forgot that you still need to eat,” Gavin responded good-naturedly, already turning towards the fridge. “Eggs again?”

The warmth spread to Michael’s face a little. “You don’t have to-”

“Somebody needs to eat them and I’ll be full for another few days.” Michael could have sworn he saw a tinge of pink on the tips of the older man’s ears when he interrupted. “You’re my guest; what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t at least feed you?”

That little stutter in his chest was back as Michael realized that this was the first time Gavin had called him ‘friend’; it did weird things to his heart. “Yeah, ok, eggs sound – eggs sound great.”


	4. Breaking And Entering

“I can see where your concern lies.”

Gavin glanced over at Dr. Adleman from where he was reading through some of the professor’s notes on chimeras; they’d been discussing the most recent murder of an inhuman – this one marked number sixteen. “It’s been a while since hunters were in the city and these ones seem to be very good at avoiding detection.”

“I imagine that they would not want to be found, if they are doing what you say they are,” Dr. Adleman speculated. “Though you seem to be quite confident that you would be able to find them.”

“Normally I would be.” Gavin set the notes down. “I like to keep tabs on things.”

Dr. Adleman chuckled. “For your own safety or other’s?”

“Everyone’s.”

The professor hummed in assent. He scratched at his sleeve absentmindedly and stared off into space, a distant look on his face. Gavin could tell he was holding back something.

“Out with it,” he told the other man. “I know you’re cooking something up in the big brain of yours.”

Again, Dr. Adleman laughed. “I was just supposing that these hunters would have to be quite specialized, and know quite a lot about people and creatures such as yourself.”

“What, are you planning on tracking them down so you can compare notes?” Gavin joked but payed extra close attention to Dr. Adleman’s heartbeat when he answered, careful not to trust fully, even with the professor; he’d been burned in the past. sometimes literally – he still had the faded scars to prove it.

“No no no,” the professor assured with a smile, eyes focusing on Gavin’s once more, pulse as steady as always and scent filled with nothing but his ever-present excitement. “I only mean that one would need very specific knowledge on very many things to be a successful ‘hunter’, as you call them. And here I am, self-professed expert on the paranormal and extraordinary, jealous of apparent murderers.”

Gavin shrugged. “It’s only natural to want to know more.” He grinned, letting just the tips of his fangs show. “But that’s what I’m for, isn’t it?”

“Ah yes, my veritable encyclopedia of monster facts!”

There had been people like Dr. Adleman before, the rare human whom Gavin trusted with his true identity and who had helped him in times of trouble. He’d always inevitably had to leave them behind but their trust had been invaluable; it was difficult to find someone who was willing to keep such a powerful secret. And even though Gavin knew to never give away everything, to keep his deepest and darkest secrets locked up, it felt so good to be able to be free with himself, to talk to someone who wouldn’t turn around and betray him right off the bat. It had been months now and the only other person he felt more at ease around was Michael.

But that was a whole other story.

“Tell me Mr. Free, what has you so interested in werewolves?”

Gavin startled internally at the quick change in subject; it was true that the most common subject he discussed with Dr. Adleman was werewolves, especially since the professor seemed particularly eager on the topic, though it hadn’t been anything close to what they had been conversing about before.

“Why do you ask now?”

The professor pulled a new book from his shelves and placed it in front of Gavin. “You never did tell me in the beginning, you know. I was recently going through some more material on draugr – like we were discussing a few weeks ago? – and happened across a book of legends from Norway that speaks on shape-shifting. You have mentioned before how werewolves may simply be a subset of such creatures so I thought I might show it to you and ask your opinion, especially if you have met any before.”

No matter how much he trusted Dr. Adleman, Gavin felt a surge of fierce protectiveness wash over him. “I have, though it’s been many years. My theories are just that – theories.”

“Ah, I understand, do not worry. The book is very interesting though, I recommend it! It contains information on how to, ah, ‘take care of’ certain creatures, actually, so it is quite topical for our current discourse.”

Quickly, Gavin picked the book up off the desk; it appeared to be a German translation of a collection of old Norse myths and legends, specifically on the stories of how humans were able to overcome the ‘beasts of the night’, as they were referred to. He flipped through it rapidly, noting how it did indeed have a few stories of shifters who would kill or kidnap their victims and how the heroes were always able to stop them. It made his skin crawl – leave it to the ancient Norse to basically create a handbook for hunters.

“They got the bit about iron correct; it is quite poisonous to many inhumans, my kind included.”

Dr. Adleman tilted his head to the side; he smelled of confusion and his brows were pulled together. “But you live in the city! Surely it must be very dangerous for you!”

“Oh, don’t worry Doc,” Gavin said with a smirk. “I’ve done well enough up till now; I don’t plan on letting a little metal stop me from anything.”

The professor seemed to take Gavin’s response well enough. “And here I thought it was only the fae who could not handle iron.”

Gavin shrugged. “Oh, they don’t like it much either, but things like certain types of ghosts, vampires, and even demons are affected negatively by it.”

“I was under the impression that it was silver that these creatures were adverse to?”

“Oh no,” Gavin grinned again while pulling out a delicate silver chain from under his shirt, a small glass Evil Eye charm dangling from it – a gift from a friend long since passed. “Silver has no effect on me except looking really nice with my skin tone.”

With an answering smile, the other man shook his head slightly in amusement and grabbed his notebook from off to the side. “Tell me more about these ghosts you spoke of just now! I do not think you have mentioned them and I admit that I have very little experience in that particular subject.”

They were back on solid footing now and Gavin felt himself relax just a little. This part was easy: Dr. Adleman would ask a question and Gavin would answer it to the best of his abilities, only sometimes leaving out little bits and pieces of the facts, just in case.

You could never be too sure with humans, after all.

................................

Being a werewolf had its downsides – a little extra hair, ruining a _bunch_ of clothes, and the occasional flee problem, to name a few – but there were way more upsides; Michael’s favorite was the _freedom_.

There was nothing like shifting and running as fast as possible through the streets or in the sprawling hills up north; there wasn’t anything that could compare to how it felt when he ran alongside a pack of real wolves on a hunt, or chased after unsuspecting flocks of birds, or stalked through the night like some kind of specter, stealing chickens and scaring cattle. It was so incredibly liberating to not be stuck in a small, insignificant human body all the time. What was even better was the righteousness he felt taking down creeps that lurked in alleyways and stole from those who couldn’t afford it – Gavin wasn’t the only one who sometimes ripped out throats.

Something not so great about shifting? When people saw you do it.

It wasn’t like it happened often; Michael took great pains to prevent people from seeing him transform. While most people might excuse it as being their mind playing tricks on them, there was always the chance that the person who saw actually believed that it was all real. Worst of all was if they also happened to be the kind of person who _hunted_ people like Michael.

He’d been attacked before, back when he still lived on the east coast. It was one of the reasons why he moved to Los Santos in the first place – make one too many mistakes and you’re bound to crash spectacularly. There were still scars on his body where hunters had managed a few lucky hits. He’d survived every attempt on his life thus far but Michael knew there was never a good time to get complacent.

Like ten minutes ago when he’d been asleep in his shitty car while parked in an abandoned lot and only the slightest hint at a heartbeat had alerted him to the man outside, gun in his hand. At first Michael had thought him just another crazy person out for a quick score – wouldn’t have been the first time – but it quickly became apparent that was incorrect; whoever it was had fired a single shot into the car’s front window, the glass spiderwebbing out from the hole. The bullet had ripped through the worn upholstery mere inches from his head. Within seconds the assailant was a bloody corpse on the ground, Michael’s wolf form crouched over it, his chest heaving and eyes bright.

Now though – now Michael was standing at the door to Gavin’s apartment, his only surviving pair of clothing a pair of basketball shorts hastily grabbed from the trunk of his car; he could feel the dried blood that he’d missed behind his ears. The adrenaline he’d been feeling up until then had worn off and now he was just tired. Bone tired. With barely any thought on the matter, he’d snagged his shorts, wallet, phone, and the spare key Gavin had given him when he’d left last time before running as fast as his human legs could on a winding route all the way to the older man’s high rise.

He knocked, of course; he wasn’t a complete delinquent. It had been a little over two weeks since he was last there and a tiny part of him worried that maybe Gavin had forgotten him, no matter how ridiculous that thought was. The vampire clearly wasn’t home though – _p_ _robably out causing trouble as the_ _damn_ _Night Stalker_ , Michael thought ruefully before unlocking the deadbolt and entering the space beyond. _Not like he’s ever minded me barging in before anyway_. If there was one constant in Michael’s life right now it was Gavin, ever patient and perpetually generous. Even the smell of the older man’s home put Michael at ease – coffee and sandalwood and that unique smell of thunderstorms that was all Gavin.

Inside the apartment wasn’t entirely dark; the curtains were open to let in the city lights, adding a slight neon tint to the walls. It was as peaceful as the first time Michael had broken in when Gavin was gone, the low hum of the fridge and distant car horns the only disruption. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights before wandering the familiar path to the bathroom with only thoughts of a hot shower running through his exhausted mind.

Michael took his time, letting the spray and steam warm his whole body, completely and blissfully at ease knowing that at least here, in the literal den of the figurative lion, he was safe. Being a werewolf had its perks, sure, but this? This was more than the freedom allotted by transforming and running through the woods; being able to stay in Gavin’s home and wear his clothes and feel this safe was a gift, one that he didn’t know how to pay back.

When he finished in the shower, Michael went into Gavin’s bedroom to grab some clothes from his special part of the closet, something cozy and preferably warm – werewolves may run hot but it had been a particularly trying night and he just wanted to relax a little. Turns out there was something even better than his usual hoodies and pants; folded on the end of the bed was the pair of sweats Gavin had been wearing that very first morning after he’d helped Michael. Grey and worn-in and sure to smell just like the vampire.

Without thinking too much about it and ignoring the little voice in the back of his mind that was laughing at him, Michael slipped them on right over his bare legs – they were a little snugger than he might have preferred but that wasn’t nearly enough of an issue to make him take them off.

The scent was strong and it made his head spin a little. Following the odd feeling it caused in his stomach, Michael pulled one of Gavin’s larger sweatshirts out from his dresser and put that on too, the smell fully surrounding him now and warming him in a way that couldn’t be accounted for by the clothes themselves. He’d given up ages ago on trying to figure out what the hell that all meant.

The only thing left to do was make some food and wait for the other man to get home.

Michael resolutely ignored how happy that thought made him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo come yell into the [void](http://toasterness.tumblr.com) with me <3


	5. I Will Always Be Running

“It’s 2:00 am, shouldn’t you be sleeping at this point?”

Michael looked up from where he was eating cereal on the counter, bundled in what were most definitely Gavin’s clothes. “What’re you, my mom?”

Even if Gavin had been thinking all night that it would be nice to see Michael again, it was still a pleasant surprise to see the younger man making himself at home. Dismissing the questioning look that Michael sent over to him, Gavin made his own way into the kitchen, stripping out of his hooded jacket as he went and hanging it on the back of one of the dining table chairs. He hadn’t fed on anyone tonight but there always seemed to be some sort of ick hanging about on his clothes after a long night of patrols and he didn’t want to get it anywhere near his spotless kitchen. Or Michael, for that matter, who looked freshly showered and clean. And in Gavin’s clothes again, despite the clothes he’d bought him.

“Did you at least leave some for me?” He asked Michael while he jumped up to sit next to him on the counter.

Michael passed him the almost empty cereal box. “’Course I did.”

Gavin laughed softly and dug in to grab whatever was left with his hands, crunching absentmindedly. They sat in companionable silence for a while, their slow heartbeats pumping just off beat of each other. It was...nice. Really nice. Gavin had missed this, even if it hadn’t being that long since they’d last seen each other.

“I was.”

Noticing how Michael’s pulse sped up a fraction, Gavin stopped eating and looked at him. “What?”

“Sleeping,” the werewolf continued. “Got woken up by some crazy guy with a gun, figured I’d come crash here.”

Turning his whole body to face him, Gavin scanned Michael up and down. “Are you ok?” The lilt of his accent seemed to make itself more known when Gavin was worried. “Did you get injured at all?”

Michael squirmed a little under his scrutiny, smiling sardonically. “Who do you think I am?” He laughed but it lacked its normal humor. “Besides, he won’t be a problem anymore.”

Gavin trusted that Michael was telling the truth, he really did, but it felt like there was something he wasn’t saying. He decided that if the younger man didn’t feel the need to say something, then Gavin wouldn’t push.

“If you say so.”

With their impromptu meal now done, Gavin watched Michael chew on his lower lip for a few long seconds, the younger man’s gaze fixated on the tile below. For once, he didn’t know what to say, so instead he sighed and got down from the counter to dispose of the cereal box. He could feel the werewolf’s eyes on him now and it made a shiver run down his spine; so this is what it felt like to have the attention of a predator.

“You should take my bed tonight,” he suggested to Michael, more confidence in his voice than he actually felt. “I’m not particularly tired tonight and you look like you need something a bit more comfortable than the couch.”

Gavin didn’t turn around but he could hear the other man huff, whispering under his breath something to the effect of _it’s actually a really comfy couch_ before snarking back. “What, already trying to get me into bed with you?”

“No – what? I-” A flush spread up the sides of Gavin’s neck and onto his ears.

With a chuckle, Michael dropped down from the counter. “Relax, Nosferatu; I’m just giving you shit.” When Gavin turned around to face him, Michael’s cheeks were tinged a light pink and he looked the tiniest bit shy, which tugged at something in Gavin’s chest. “Where’re you gonna sleep then?”

It wasn’t like Gavin had _meant_ to offer up his own bed; it had just sort of slipped out of him. At this point it was useless to take it back and anyway, weren’t they close enough by now for it not to be weird? This was what friends did, right? Granted it had been a long while since Gavin had had anyone stay over at his house _and_ in his bed, but that was usually reserved for the times that he was craving the more carnal desires and wow, he needed to get his mind off that train of thought immediately.

“I’m a vampire, remember? I don’t need nearly as much sleep as you.” At Michael’s doubtful expression, Gavin forced a smile – in all honesty, it had been a long night and he was bone tired but he found himself feeling that strange _want_ that he experienced when the other man was involved; he could sacrifice one night of sleep if it meant that Michael could profit from it. “Really Michael, I’m not tired. You get some proper sleep for once and I’ll be in my studio; I have a few details on my latest piece that I need to finish anyway.”

Michael still looked unsure but eventually returned Gavin’s smile with one of his own, this one small and genuine. “Well then, thanks man – your bed’s always looked so inviting.” Realizing what he just said, the blush on his face turned slightly brighter. “Shit, I mean – you know – it’s really big and you’ve got all those blankets and-”

“It’s alright, I know what you meant,” Gavin interrupted with a laugh.

“Right. Well.” Michael turned and made his way down the hall to the bedroom. “Night!”

That weird tugging in his core was back but Gavin tucked it away like normal and he began the distracting process of making coffee. “Goodnight, Michael.”

The distant click of the bedroom door shutting echoed in his head.

Coffee in hand, Gavin entered his studio and sat down in front of his easel. He meticulously gathered the materials and paints he would need and sipped his coffee while staring absentmindedly into the middle distance. He tried to gather the motivation to start but couldn’t seem to find any. At least a half hour went by where he just sat there, coffee mostly ignored and the paint on his brush slowly drying between what few additions he managed to make.

It was no use; Gavin couldn’t focus. He stared at the canvas, the stark lines of his most recent commission blurring together as his thoughts got more and more muddled. Whatever fresh paint he’d managed to put down seemed all wrong, too dull and too bright at the same time. He tried to ignore the direction his mind was taking him, tried to pretend like nothing was different and this was just another average Thursday night, but how could he do that when the most beautiful man he’d ever met was sleeping only one room away, in _his_ bed?

Gavin couldn’t get the image of Michael’s muscular form sprawled out under his deep blue sheets out of his head; the mere thought gave him goosebumps. Would the other man be a side or a back sleeper? Would he snore or move around in his sleep? What would his hair look like spread out on the pillow in the gentle glow of sunrise? By the time Gavin realized his thoughts were spiraling, it was too late – he was far too gone to care, painting all but forgotten.

He startled when a knock came from the studio door before it slowly opened behind him. When he turned his head, Gavin saw Michael standing there awkwardly, one of the old quilts from the bedroom wrapped around his shirtless body, eyes looking anywhere but at Gavin.

“Michael-”

“I forgot you painted,” the younger man cut in.

Gavin set his paintbrush down on the easel. “It’s technically my day job, you could say.” When it appeared that Michael wasn’t going to respond, Gavin shifted on his stool to fully face him. “I’m going to assume you didn’t come in here to chat about my work. Is anything wrong?”

Michael shifted back and forth on his feet, eyes flicking about, not focusing on any one thing. “I – I’m not-” He cleared his throat, gathering his words before trying again. “I can’t sleep.”

“Oh?” Gavin cocked his head to the side – he knew that his bed was extremely comfortable, and Michael had looked more tired than usual, so why was he having trouble? “How can I help you in that regard?”

“I don’t know.” The werewolf seemed almost agitated now, though more at himself than anything.

“I could make some tea, if you’d like.”

“No, I don’t – I want-”

Gavin waited a moment to see if the other man would continue. When he didn’t, Gavin sighed lightly and put his hands in his lap. “What do you want, Michael?”

It seemed like Michael was fighting himself internally over something, his face scrunched up and body rigid. Suddenly, he growled lowly at himself and looked directly into Gavin’s eyes.

“I want you to come to bed with me.”

Well. That was definitely _not_ what Gavin thought he was going to say.

“You want me to...sleep with you.”

Michael’s face was a bright shade of pink but he refused to look away, no matter how clearly he wanted to. “Yes. NO. I mean, literally sleep with me.” He visibly flinched. “Just sleep! In the bed. With me.”

Gavin could do nothing but stare at him dumbly, all sorts of emotions coursing through his body. He wanted him to what?

The younger man let out a heavy exhale and finally looked away, only to shake his head and look back once again. “I can’t sleep by myself right now, alright?” The pink hadn’t left his cheeks – it might have even darkened. “So you’re gonna get up, get changed, and get into that stupidly big bed of yours with me. Ok?”

How could Gavin turn down something like that? He might grow to regret his choices later but right now, all he could think about was _Michael_. “Ok.”

“Right. Good.”

With decisive steps, Michael spun on his heel and led the way back into the bedroom, Gavin dutifully following. While the brunette got under the covers, Gavin quickly swapped out his jeans and Henley for a pair of plaid pajama pants and a large t-shirt before crawling in too. He settled next to Michael, careful to leave not quite two feet between their bodies. Michael’s eyes were closed but Gavin could hear that his heart was beating too fast for him to be asleep. The now-familiar need to be close to the other man was back, creeping along Gavin’s skin like a physical sensation. Being this near – so near that he could distinctly count the freckles on Michael’s face – was definitely a bad idea; how was he supposed to deny his feelings now?

“Thank you.”

If Gavin hadn’t been holding his own breath for fear of disturbing the moment, he probably wouldn’t have heard Michael. Perhaps he hadn’t even meant for it to be heard at all. It sent an incredibly foreign sensation bubbling up his throat to settle honey-sweet in his mouth.

Yeah, he was definitely regretting his choices now.

................................

Despite what the stories might have people believe, vampires were actually incredibly warm creatures. At least this particular one was, all long limbs and surprisingly hairy chest, practically radiating heat even while half covered with sheets. They weren't even touching! Gavin was scant feet away from Michael on the other side of the bed but his warmth could still be felt as if it were inches. Michael wouldn't normally complain – and he wasn't really complaining now – but maybe it wasn't just their proximity that was the thing really getting to him.

Maybe it was the way Gavin's face softened when he was asleep, centuries of life fading away so only the young man he appeared to be remained; maybe it was the solid core of contentment and safety that grew exponentially for every second Michael stayed in his presence; maybe it was the barely-there tingle down Michael's spine every time a puff of breath ran across his face. It could have been any combination of those things or something completely different but the only thing Michael could be sure about was that he was so, _so_ fucked.

He thought about how the first solution he'd come up with for his sleeplessness was to call the vampire into his room, and how easily Gavin had agreed – no resistance, no questions, just an understanding that was left unspoken. Michael wasn't used to this kind of thing; no one had ever trusted him like this or treated him the way Gavin did, allowing him to let his guard down completely. It was overwhelming to say the least, and completely out of his comfort zone.

It was all just too much.

Michael was thankful that Gavin slept like the dead man he was; it made it easier to silently slip out from under the covers and out of the bedroom. He easily found his phone in the pre-dawn darkness and started towards the apartment's front door, steps totally soundless. As his hand reached for the door handle, Michael paused, the vampire’s shirt he’d grabbed randomly and put on wafting the delicate smell of Gavin's unique scent into his sensitive nose. His chest clenched but he couldn't make himself leave it behind.

Leaving was painful but staying? Michael didn't think his heart could handle staying.

The streets of Los Santos never truly emptied but this early in the morning, there were very few cars driving by and nearly zero other people walking down the sidewalks. It was easy for Michael to navigate the familiar city, avoiding areas he knew were more likely to have people around despite the time and quickly make his way out towards more open land. He could always stash his things somewhere and shift, run as far away as he could, but something in the back of his mind told him that it wasn’t a good time to reveal himself, even a little. Besides, he wanted to have his phone on him in case Gavin-

Well, in case he needed to call...someone. Whatever.

Winters on the coast this far south were usually fairly mild but Michael felt a strong chill in the air that cut through the clothes he’d taken, goosebumps crawling over his arms while he walked. It would be warmer in his wolf form and he desperately wished he could transform safely. Instead, he tucked his hands into his armpits and walked faster. Regret filled him as he chided himself for switching out Gavin’s sweatpants for the basketball shorts he’d managed to grab from his car before bolting. Even if they would add to the already powerful sinking feeling in his stomach every time he took a breath – _sandalwood, coffee, warm sunshine_ – at least he wouldn’t be so cold.

It took him two hours to get all the way out to the hills around the Vinewood sign, the sun already halfway risen and providing a small increase in temperature. Michael made his way to a specific tree just down from the second ‘O’ where he’d long ago made a hidden cache where he could hide things while running out in the northern wilds. He glanced around several times – he couldn’t see or hear anyone nearby but that little voice in his head kept nudging him to be extra cautious – before stripping out of his clothes, tucking them and his phone away after turning it off, and transforming.

Immediately, Michael was warm again, all thoughts of the cold banished from his mind as the thrill of being in his wolf form coursed through him. Even the image of a sleeping Gavin fled as soon as he began to run. His powerful legs took him faster and faster, racing up the hills before he could second guess anything, the freedom of his animal form the only thing he let himself focus on.

About a hundred yards behind him and keeping surprisingly easy pace on, a figure in green and brown camo followed him into the trees, a long rifle strapped to its back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you know the [drill](http://toasterness.tumblr.com) by now <3


	6. The Consequences Of Emotions

Three weeks. Three long, silent weeks with no word from Michael. Three weeks of Gavin wondering what the hell he’d done for the brunette to just up and leave in the middle of the night without saying anything, all after specifically asking to share the bed, and then not send any texts or reply to any of the ones that Gavin had sent. He’d stopped sending them a week ago, convinced that he wasn’t wanted. It had hurt, waking up alone, the other side of the bed cold enough to say that the werewolf had left long before Gavin woke up. He’d clearly made a mistake in thinking that Michael felt anything close to what he did – like the monster that he was, he’d scared the other man away.

He couldn’t say that he was surprised but Gavin had let himself hope and that made it sting all the more. It wasn’t often that he let people get under his skin and Michael had successfully burrowed deep without even trying. It had seemed, for a while at least, that maybe the powerful _want_ that Gavin felt around him was shared, though the wordless and unprompted departure proved that to be a baseless dream. Had Michael not actually trusted him? Had it all been one extended lie?

Gavin distracted himself as best he could; he threw himself into his work, finishing several commissions in record time, as well as finding time to paint some new pieces for the gallery that he hadn’t been to in person for at least a year (Sebastian did such a nice job as a curator, why would he need to bother checking in?). He went out every night, catching criminal after criminal and delivering them to justice – he only fed on a few of them, simply leaving the others either for dead or tied up for the police to find. If he let his mind wander for too long, it would always find its way back to an endless stream of ‘what ifs’.

One of the only solaces life seemed to want to provide were his meetings with Dr. Adleman. They were the most regular thing about his weeks and made Gavin feel more grounded, more focused. That night, however, he couldn’t seem to keep his thoughts in order.

“You seem distracted tonight, friend,” Dr. Adleman commented, concern flavoring his accent. “Is everything alright?”

Gavin gave himself a small shake and looked up from where he’d been staring emptily at the bookshelf behind the professor. “Ah, yes, no, I’m alright – just a bit tired.”

Dr. Adleman tilted his head. “Is it the murder cases? I saw this morning that the body count had gone up another four.”

That hadn’t been what was distracting Gavin, not exactly, but the image of Michael’s body lying broken in some alleyway, slaughtered by murder-happy hunters, had been crossing his mind more and more often. Michael was intelligent, crafty, and powerful, and there was no real reason for Gavin to worry that he’d succumbed to the same fate as all of those other poor people, but the thought was still there and he couldn’t get it out.

He used Dr. Adleman’s almost correct inference as an out – he’d so far kept Michael a secret and he wasn’t going to change that now, especially since he had no idea where the werewolf was. He sighed. “I thought that I’d have been able to catch the hunters by now but they’ve been so careful to leave no evidence behind or create any trails I could follow.” It was true; most of his nightly outings were meant as a way for him to try and track down the hunters responsible, and he’d been unable to prevent new attacks or gather new information. “These people are far more skilled than any other hunters I’ve ever had to deal with.”

“Have you encountered many, then?” The professor still looked mildly concerned but his curiosity had clearly been piqued.

Gavin snorted. “When you’re as old and monstrous as I am, you’re bound to meet any number of people who want you destroyed.” He could hear Dr. Adleman’s pulse speed up a tiny bit at the prospect of another one of Gavin’s tails of his past. “Hunters have come a long way since wooden stakes and garlic.”

“Do not push yourself too hard, Mr. Free; you cannot save everyone.” A buzzing noise came from the professor’s phone where it sat on the desk. Glancing at it with a frown, he picked it up to read the text he had received, a steely glint appearing in his eyes as he read. “I am sorry to cut our meeting short but there is something urgent I must attend to at home.” He stood up and pulled his jacket on, the tangy scent of agitation filling the small space.

Truth be told, Gavin was quite happy to be done for the night; he really just wanted to go home and, well, _sulk_ , for lack of a better term. “I hope everything is ok,” he replied while collecting his things and standing as well. “Feel free to let me know if you need any assistance.” _Please don’t ask me for help, please don’t ask me-_

“Oh no, no, it is nothing you need to be concerned over. Just the neighbors causing trouble again. This city seems to bring out the worst in people, as you probably know.” Dr. Adleman gave Gavin a tight smile. “I will see you in a few days time, then?”

“See you, Doc.”

They parted ways in the hallway, the professor locking up the office behind them. Gavin made his way slowly outside, campus practically empty, all the faculty gone home by that point and the only students boarded up in the library a few buildings down. The excessive sounds of Los Santos on a Friday night only got louder as he began his short walk home. There were people everywhere, going in and out of bars and restaurants, loitering in the streets, tucked away in alleys bumming cigarettes off strangers. It was, for all intents and purposes, the perfect night for a hunt, and maybe finding a fresh meal would make him feel better.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take him long at all to find a suitable victim; a greasy middle aged man with a nasty right hook tried to rob a group of young women while wielding a rusty blade right in front of him – it was almost laughable. Gavin found himself rubbing his chin where the idiot had managed to get a hit in, feral grin already in place and fangs dropping in preparation. The acrid stench of urine stung his nose seconds before he sunk his sharp teeth into the man’s neck and oh, but the sweet, sweet taste of hot blood rushing down his throat and the sound of a heart stopping was truly a wonderful combination.

He drank his fill. It hadn’t actually been that long since his last feeding but at least it did seem to make him feel a little better. Gavin supposed he was only delaying the inevitability of him going home and spending the time he should be sleeping coming up with wilder and wilder scenarios involving Michael and what was going on with him, wherever he had gone. For now though – for now he was content to watch the body of his victim crumble to the ground in a lifeless heap, sallow and cold.

The rest of the night went by in a blur; he eventually made his way home, cleaned himself up, and poured himself a glass of the fanciest wine he owned. The stars were barely visible through the oppressing lights of Los Santos but for once Gavin couldn’t care less; his usual longing for the open skies of some far away place and time was replaced by the ache of knowing Michael was somewhere that wasn’t _here_. He tried not to think about it but wine always had a way of making him feel overly sentimental, the ever-consistent flavor taking him back to the earliest stretches of his memory.

It was close to dawn when his phone pinged from the side table he’d set it on earlier, the little blue light at the top of the screen indicating that he’d been sent a text. Gavin reached for it, the knowledge that no one else bothered to text him filling his head and sending his heart into his throat – _please be him please be him please be him-_

It was Michael. After 22 days of waiting, of self doubt and worry and not knowing what to do, there on the phone screen, backlit in cold white light, was a single word that sent jagged shivers down Gavin’s spine:

 _Hunters_.

They’d found him – the murderers had somehow found Michael and now the younger man was in danger. How was Gavin supposed to find him and help him now? Michael had left without a word, without any indication of where he was going, and had left Gavin on unread for _weeks_ ; other than this one clue on what was happening, Gavin had nothing to go on, and that made him even angrier. A small part of him wanted to ignore the message, pettiness welling up in his chest and sinking into his thoughts, but more of him burned with rage and knew that if he had to find some way to help. He had time enough to be mad at Michael once the younger man was safe, safe and at home with Gavin.

“FUCK!” He yelled into the empty apartment. The wine glass in his hand shattered with how hard he gripped it, shards of wet glass digging into his palm but barely scratching the surface.

Heart in his throat and ancient blood boiling, Gavin grabbed his coat, slammed open the balcony door, and leapt off into the night.

................................

He’d fucked up.

He was soaking wet and frozen to the bone, his fur and skin were stained crimson from the blood that wouldn’t stop flowing from wounds that refused to heal, and it was becoming excruciatingly apparent that his body would give out at any moment from pure exhaustion. Whoever was following him – _hunting_ him – was good, really good, and wasn’t being bogged down by the same circumstances; they just stayed two steps behind him at all times, only getting close enough to fire a few rounds in his general direction every few days before retreating back again and continuing their stalking. Things were compounding and Michael understood very well that he’d really, really fucked up this time.

There was no excuse for his carelessness, no reason good enough to make up for the fact that he’d purposefully made the decision to leave the safest place he’d ever experienced all so he could what, run free in the woods? A single week of nothing had passed before things went to shit, and then he’d made a series of idiotic and unobservant choices that had made it so easy for the hunters on his tail to continue to track him. Michael would kick himself if he had either the energy or free time to do so but instead he was forced to just keep running.

There were a few moments of peace, small pockets of time where he was allowed to close his eyes for a few hours inside a public restroom before security kicked him out, or steal a bottle of water from an isolated gas station and chug it down while tucked away behind farming equipment, or even that one night where he simply passed out in the chip conveyor belt at some logging processing plant and slept for who knows how long. The rest of his time was spent moving as quickly as possible between locations, more often than not in his wolf form.

Michael had been unable to make it back to where he stashed his clothes and phone the night he left Gavin’s apartment; he hoped that they were still there, hoped that he could somehow make it back and contact the vampire, though the hunters always seemed to anticipate his desire to travel south, back to the city, and would block his way. These encounters usually resulted in one or two new bullet holes in his already abused flesh.

He hurt. Everywhere. His muscles burned and his head pounded and even his teeth felt strained. It felt as if his bones were cracking under the pressure, crumbling to dust from the effort of keeping him going. All Michael wanted to do was give up, to drop to the ground and just let whoever wanted him catch up and take him away, but the image of a certain someone kept flashing in his head and he couldn’t help but _want_.

Gavin had told him that he would help him whenever, that he could be trusted to keep him safe, and Michael had given that up like a moron. And now all he could do was berate himself and push through his fatigue and keep running.

It hadn’t take Michael long to figure out that the hunters tracking him could have easily caught up to him by that point; he’d given them ample opportunity, though they never took him up on it. They were the type to play with their food before eating it, he decided, and hated them even more for it. Would it really be worse to be captured? All this extra effort and Michael was done with it.

_CRACK!_

Searing pain ripped through Michael’s right arm as he tried desperately to skirt around a boulder – they’d gotten close enough to shoot him again and boy did they know where to hit to do the most damage; his wolf form stumbled, long limbs tangling while he tried to recover. He could hear the tell-tale sound of a dirt bike rumbling somewhere nearby and felt his stomach roil, the scalding sensation from the gunshot wound spreading, whatever special bullet the hunters had devised sending poison coursing through his veins. Michael knew – he _knew_ , deep in his bones – that if he was hit just one more time, he’d go down for good.

And yet somehow, miraculously, the Vinewood sign came into view just up ahead; how had he not noticed where he was until now? And how come the hunters hadn’t stopped him from successfully navigating back to where he’d started? No, this wasn’t some mistake, this had to be part of some larger plan, some orchestrated plot to make him falter – there was no way they would have messed up like this, not when they’d done such a good job up until that point to keep him as far away from Los Santos as they could.

Well, he would just have to subvert whatever it is that they were designing and give himself enough time to grab his phone and send a message to Gavin; Michael had no one else he could trust – he had no one else in general – and he needed to get over his irrational fear of intense emotions before it was added to the long list of reasons he was killed. Pride be damned, he needed help and Gavin was the only one who could.

As soon as he reached the tree where his stash was located, Michael transformed out of wolf form. The pain and weariness were worse like this, his human body unable to handle the stress as well as his animal body could. He ignored it in favor of snatching out his phone and turning it on while sprinting further towards the city. Not wasting any time, cognizant of the battery signal flashing at him and dismissing all the notifications of the concerned and confused texts Gavin had sent during the past few weeks – and oh god, what had he done to deserve that – the second he was able to Michael shot off a text with a single word: _hunters_. His phone died seconds after he sent the message and he could do nothing but hope it had sent. He dropped it, he sound of engines getting closer once again and he was forced to revert to wolf shape in order to go faster.

Whatever happened – whether Gavin forgave him or not – Michael had to keep running, had to get into the city however he could and lose the hunters within the towering skyscrapers and busy streets. He had no other options, no other paths to take except onward, the knowledge spinning through his head that if he slowed down even for a second, he’d die. He’d die and he’d never see...he’d never see...

Well, he’d never see Gavin again.

And that couldn’t happen, it really couldn’t; Michael was attached and it was stupid of him to think that he could just leave and solve all his problems the way he always had – by running away from them. He’d ran away from home once he’d been turned, had run from the east coast when he started to raise suspicion, and had run from truly accepting any real responsibility for his entire life. It was time to stop running and there was no better place to do so than at Gavin’s feet, begging to be trusted again, to let him exist in the same space again. He’d do anything. _Anything_.

He just had to get there first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:)
> 
> (Please come find me on [Tumblr](http://toasterness.tumblr.com) \- we have so much to scream about)


	7. No Use Lying To Yourself

Once, when Gavin was living in Moscow during the early 1800s, he’d met a small group of people who had dedicated their lives to studying all things unnatural and strange. They’d called themselves _khraniteli prizrakov_ , or the ghost keepers, and had been an incredibly wonderful source of entertainment. While mostly harmless in practice, they would sometimes get a little too close to the truth and Gavin would have to steer them a little off course to prevent them from coming to any harm. He told himself it was for their own good but it always came back around to self-preservation, didn’t it?

Since then, he hadn’t encountered any groups, only individuals who spent their time seriously examining the occult or mythic creatures, like the professor. Sure, there was the scattered social or school club but they were never anything to worry about. Gavin had always been especially fond of the Ghostbusters series of films – they never seemed to get it quite right but damn if they weren’t funny.

A few days before Michael’s message though, he’d come across a short ad in the paper (who even read the paper anymore besides old people like Gavin anyway?) inquiring about any strange sightings and to call a certain number if anyone had something to report. There was even an address provided, somewhere in the industrial districts. Gavin couldn’t help but snort when he saw the ad; these people had no tact, just like Bill Murray’s character in the movies. This didn’t stop Gavin from listening to the little voice in the back of his head that told him that they could be legitimate and that how funny it would be if they were. He’d pushed it aside at the time but now that Michael had sent him that ominous text, Gavin pledged to check every source.

So that was why he found himself standing outside of their little warehouse just outside of downtown in the early hours of the morning. He’d had no luck finding hide nor tail of Michael in the past several hours of searching and had decided that it couldn’t hurt to check in these so-called investigators. If anything, it would be good to take care of them anyway – there was no good reason for people like them to exist in a city full of inhumans like Los Santos, especially one guarded by someone like Gavin. The least he could do was pay them a visit.

The building was situated underneath an overpass, windows dark with only a single halogen light illuminating the parking lot from where it stuck out from the building above the front entrance. If he stood perfectly still and listened very carefully with his ear pressed against the door, Gavin could hear several slow heartbeats coming from somewhere towards the back of the building. Now he needed to decide if he was going to knock first or ask questions later. Unfortunately, the decision ended up being made for him.

He barely had time to register the feeling of someone standing right behind him before he was being thrust forward into the closed door by some unseen force. If pressed, Gavin didn't think he could quite describe the sensation of something passing right through him but that was exactly what happened; a semi-opaque specter rushed into his back and out his front, the momentum carrying him forward so his head slammed into the solid metal. His chest protested as something bitterly cold filled his lungs and then just as abruptly abandoned them, his eyes straining in their sockets from the pressure, his very core jumbled about and pulled. Even if he hadn't hit his head violently, Gavin knew he would have felt disoriented beyond belief.

 _Ghost_ , his rattled brain supplied. While he was distracted, burning lines crisscrossed around his body and tightened – he was being wrapped in iron chains, the old metal a familiar sting.

It wasn't the first time this had happened but he hadn't prepared for this and Gavin wasn't quite in the right mind, his brain and body still quite shaken up. He couldn't help but grunt in pain as the chains tightened, constricting his ribs even more and holding his arms to his sides. Suddenly, the door whipped open and he could do nothing to prevent himself pitching forward onto the ground. He heard shuffling from somewhere off to the side, a soft giggle that sounded like bells in the wind, and a gruff voice saying something about 'god damned immortals'. A pair of dark boots filled his field of vision and he found himself being hoisted up into muscled arms.

"Move and it gets worse," a rough voice threatened into his ear.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Gavin responded hoarsely, his mouth forming a small guileful smile despite the situation.

A different voice started speaking, this time attached to a face – haggard eyes, messy black hair and mustache, plain black clothing on a tall, thin body. "I'd have thought your kind would be a bit more cautious."

Gavin hoped his vision stopped swimming soon; it was difficult to figure out which of the two figures in front of him was the real one. "I was under the impression that you would be a bit more accommodating to someone who just wants to ask a few questions."

"You're more than welcome to ask away," the other man said. "I just like to have things under control is all."

Well then, that just wouldn't do at all now would it? Gavin waited a few seconds longer for his body to settle and then let the monstrous part of himself take over; his fangs descended and he put all his energy into pushing against the chains and arms around him. It didn't take much to shatter the metal and reverse the position of him and his captor, steel-like grip around one arm while holding their head to the side so Gavin had clear access to their throat. He opened his mouth and bit down, hot blood spurting onto his tongue and venom pulsing in, the other person's whole body convulsing.

Letting go to glare at the man from before, Gavin snarled out his next words. "It was really stupid of you to think you could keep me down." The body in his arms started to go slack and Gavin shook it like a rag doll. "What was it he said? Move and it gets worse?"

The tall man didn't look nearly as worried as he should have, Gavin thought. Instead, he looked mildly amused. "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't harm my associates," he reprimanded in a lighter-than-warranted tone. "Tell me what you came here for and perhaps we can come to an accord."

"Where is he," Gavin growled, the scent of blood pervading his nostrils. "What did you do with him."

Now the dark haired man looked confused. "Where is who?"

"You know damn well who!"

"Seriously man, I've got no idea what you're talking about! It's just us here!"

Gavin could feel himself getting a little unhinged, the thought that maybe he was overreacting fresh in his mind; he tried to calm himself but was only partially successful. "He's – he's a friend, he's being hunted and I need – I need to find him."

A tall red headed woman walked up behind the man he’d been speaking to. "I'm sorry to say that there's nobody here that isn't supposed to be." She smiled gently. "Now Jeremy, stop playing dead and step back from our guest."

The body in Gavin's grip, formerly just dead weight, promptly spun in his arms and grinned up at him, the man's – Jeremy’s – brown irises spreading until there were two of them in each eye, slitted pupils (four of them!) staring into Gavin's soul. It wasn't until the shorter man was standing two feet away that Gavin realized he couldn't move.

"Basilisk," he groaned, the snake man's grin getting even wider.

“Hello,” Jeremy responded good-naturedly with a devilish smirk.

The dark haired man made his way over to where Gavin was frozen to stand next to Jeremy, his expression a mix of exasperation and frustration. “Seriously man, none of us have any idea what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Maybe we could help you though? If your ‘friend’ is being hunted, there might be something we could do to get to him first, or at least figure out a general location; we have a fairly good lead on most hunters in the area.” The redhead offered.

Gavin didn’t know what to do; if these people had a basilisk – and some sort of ghost too – at their disposal, they were most likely not the kind of people to kill monsters like him, at least not outright or without good reason. Then again, the first thing they’d done was capture him, though he guessed he couldn’t really blame them for that one. He took several deep breaths to steady himself and directed his next words to the man who seemed to be the one in charge.

“I think it’s the hunters who’ve been murdering inhumans all throughout the city the past few months.”

The man scowled. “We’ve been trying to find them but haven’t had much luck. We’ve been here for years, taking care of rowdy beasts and the like and shooing away new hunting groups but these guys are more experienced than those we’ve dealt with previously.” He ran his hand through his already unruly hair. “I mean, we can sure _try_ to help but I don’t know how much we’ll be able to provide; I don’t want to get your hopes up.”

The feeling of invisible bonds loosened from around Gavin’s body and he found himself jerking a little bit to stabilize himself. He brushed his hands down the front of his coat, standing up straight to look back at the basilisk.

“Thanks.”

Jeremy’s smile had never faltered, though his eyes had gone back to normal. “Nah, thank you for the new cool scars.”

Gavin winced. “I may have...gotten a little carried away; I apologize.”

“Not the first time I’ve been bitten by one of you guys – your venom doesn’t exactly work on me but it’s not always a pleasant feeling to have your insides pulled outside, so I appreciate you keeping that to a minimum.”

The woman walked closer. “What’s your name?”

“Gavin,” he responded hesitantly. “And yours?”

“I’m Jack,” she replied, jerked her thumb back at the dark haired man. “That’s Geoff. You’ve already met Jeremy and Lindsay.”

“Ah, the spirit from outside.”

That tinkling laugh was back, this time coming from behind Gavin. When he turned, a young woman with bright blue hair that rustled slightly in a wind that wasn’t really there stood, the very air around her seeming to shimmer. “Poltergeist, actually, but it doesn’t really matter. It’s all semantics anyway.”

“She likes to emphasize the chaos part of being a ‘geist though,” Jeremy said facetiously. “Don’t let her fool you with her innocent act.”

If he hadn’t just been tangled in iron chains and then paralyzed by a mythical snake creature, Gavin might have felt like he was completely welcome, embraced even, by this weird little group. “It’s, er, wonderful to meet you all. I appreciate you not trying to kill me. Well, not trying very hard, at least.”

Geoff huffed out a laugh. “You’d be dead if we wanted you do be.”

Gavin graciously didn’t bother disputing that claim, despite it truthfully being completely baseless and false; he’d lived as long as he had for a reason.

“We don’t make it a habit of killing when we don’t have to,” Jack said. “It’s a waste of resources and most of the time the beings we hunt aren’t actually a threat to anyone; people are just scared of things they can’t understand.”

“That’s been my experience as well.” Gavin agreed.

Jeremy cracked his knuckles. “So what’s the plan, boss? We helpin’ or what?” Gavin couldn’t help but notice the faint east coast accent, a twinge of worry passing through him at the thought of Michael and his similar voice.

“Well, we should probably start by comparing notes, and then we can move from there. I’ll give Matt a call and have him come in early to help out.” He looked at Gavin. “When’s the last time you saw your friend?”

It was heartache this time that pulsed in Gavin’s chest. “He was – he was staying with me a few weeks ago, and then he...left. Early in the morning, without saying anything.” He cleared his throat and looked away. “He used to like running up in the north hills but if he’s being chased, he’s been extra careful to leave as little evidence of his movements as possible, or someone’s been cleaning up after him. I haven’t been able to find any hint of him in the city proper either, so I don’t think he’s been able to get back, if he ran north.”

Geoff hummed thoughtfully. “We might not have a lot but hopefully with our combined efforts we can figure something out.” He came forward and stuck out his hand. “It’ll be good to work with someone new. Just know that if you make any moves to harm my people, I will personally end your most likely long ass life.”

“I appreciate your offer.” Gavin shook the offered hand. “And despite appearances, I don’t have any plans to hurt anybody but the hunters out for my friend.”

Jack put her hand out as well; she had a warm, firm handshake and a voice that put Gavin at ease. “What’s your friend’s name?”

Gavin swallowed heavily, more feelings of guilt and regret swirling within, as the image of Michael’s laughing face came to mind – the crinkling at the corners of his eyes, the loud and boisterous way he cackled, the little crooked smile he’d give Gavin when he thought the vampire wasn’t looking after they were both done laughing. Gavin missed him, plain and simple; he wanted him back, safe and unharmed.

“Michael. His name is Michael.”

................................

If Michael believed in luck or fate or any of those silly notions, he might have assigned one of them to the events that led him to where he was right then, but because he was who he was and didn’t believe in any of that shit, he could only blame sheer coincidence. How else could he have successfully lost the hunters following him and found himself outside of Gavin’s apartment? Maybe they were just as tired as he was.

Because holy shit was he tired; weeks of running would do that to anyone, supernatural or not. He was cold and exhausted and hungry enough to eat practically anything, though all he really wanted was a hot shower and access to that ridiculously comfy couch in Gavin’s living room. He was also, unfortunately, stark naked and in the staring match of the century with the woman who tried to get in the elevator with him on the second floor of Gavin’s building.

He’d managed to get into the lobby just fine in his wolf form – it really wasn’t as hard as it should have been; security needed a big upgrade – but was much too large to fit comfortably in the elevator, so he’d shifted back into a human for the long ride up to the top floor. It wasn’t his fault that this poor woman just needed to get downstairs, and it surely wasn’t hers either. Michael knew he must have looked terrible and probably a bit frightening; he was naked, filthy, bloody, and felt more than a little feral from how long he’d been an animal.

“I’ll just, uh, take the stairs then,” she squeaked, cheeks pink and refusing to look anywhere but at the empty space just to the side of Michael’s face.

Michael attempted a smile and gave her a little wave as the doors closed.

The door to Gavin’s apartment was locked as usual and Michael felt a rush of regret at having lost the key that the vampire had entrusted to him. There was also the fear that maybe Gavin wouldn’t want to see him, not after what he’d done. And honestly? Michael couldn’t blame the guy; it was pretty shitty of him to just up and leave like he did, then not contact him even once except to send a cryptic text about being in danger. If it had been the other way around, Michael would have been rightfully upset as well.

He’d finally settled on knocking when the door abruptly opened, a very ruffled looking Gavin staring at him from inside the apartment. A rapid litany of emotions crossed the older man’s face – disbelief-guilt-worry-hurt – but he didn’t say anything, just stared at Michael like he might up and disappear again at any moment. Michael squirmed under the attention, more aware than ever of his current state of undress and injury, feeling shame for the first time since they’d met.

He unconsciously crossed an arm over his chest to hide the worst of the gunshot wounds and his other hand moved to cover his groin, folding himself tighter into his own body. He couldn’t look Gavin in the eyes, not with how intensely the other man was staring. Michael cleared his throat and tried to give a little laugh, though it came out more like a sniffle.

“Hi.”

And then there were arms being wrapped around him, his head tucked snugly into a warm chest. The familiar and soothing scent of coffee, rain, and sandalwood pervaded his nose and filled him with something inexplicable, something wholly unique and terrifying that he couldn’t put an accurate name to. Michael found himself starting to shiver as the embrace become stronger, the trembling spreading from his fingers and toes to his arms and legs, then to his chest and belly. It almost felt like his internal organs were vibrating, his lungs not quite able to catch up to how many breaths he needed to be taking to deal with it all. Under his ear, he could hear a steady heartbeat, strong and the most important sound Michael had ever heard.

Slowly, afraid he might break the tension that was holding everything together, Michael allowed himself to wrap his arms around Gavin too.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” the vampire rasped; the fingers cradling Michael’s head shook almost imperceptibly.

Michael closed his eyes and breathed in Gavin’s warmth. “Don’t you know by now that I always find myself back here when things go to hell?”

Chuckling, Gavin loosened his grip so he could pull back and look at Michael’s face and oh, Michael had missed that laugh.

“You really do, don’t you?” The gentle smile that Gavin had on his face fell, his eyebrows pinching together in concern. “Come on, let’s get you inside so I can take a look at those injuries and you can get cleaned up.”

The inside of Gavin’s apartment looked exactly as it had when Michael left three weeks ago, everything in its correct place. The only difference was Gavin himself, his hair messy and unwashed, clothes rumpled like he’d been wearing them for a while without changing. Still, it was warm, bright, and smelled entirely of the vampire in a way that made Michael want to curl up and bask in it. Without the other man holding up almost all of his weight, Michael knew he would have collapsed on the floor already.

Once in the bathroom, Gavin wrapped one of his plush towels around Michael’s waist and lifted him easily onto the wide counter. His eyes were serious as he went about his examination, hands careful and steady when he began cleaning the collection of entry and exit wounds, his focus single-minded even when dealing with the injuries on Michael’s upper thighs. He had to dig a quite a few embedded bullets out but even in this he was gentle.

“What happened?” The blonde asked eventually.

Michael wasn’t quite sure where to begin; did he say why he snuck out, or did he get right to the part where he was being chased? “Hunters,” he decided on after a few seconds of consideration. “Kept on my trail like I wasn’t even trying to avoid them. They never got close enough for me to see them but they sure did have plenty of opportunities to shoot me.”

Gavin frowned but didn’t respond.

“It’s almost like you have experience doing this kind of stuff,” Michael forced out through gritted teeth when a particularly deep bullet one was removed, hopeful that they could avoid talking about his whole ordeal soon; he’d come back, hadn’t he? He was done thinking about his mistakes.

With a snort, Gavin dropped the bullet into the sink. “It’s definitely not the first time I’ve done this.” Finishing up with a wound on Michael’s bicep, he continued, eyes never straying from his work. “There have been several points in my life where I acted as a medic, though in the past few decades it’s mostly been me treating myself. It’s strange that you were unable to heal from these, though.”

Michael looked down at himself; to his surprise, now that the bullets were gone, the wounds they’d left behind were beginning to very slowly close up. “Think again, Dr. Cullen.”

“Hmmm...” Gavin observed curiously, his clinical gaze sharp. He picked up one of the discarded bullets out and held it to his nose to take a long sniff. His nose scrunched up immediately. “Wolfsbane.” The chunk of metal was tossed back. “No wonder you weren’t healing. Now that most of it’s gone from your body, you should be all good in no time.”

“That’s good to know.”

Gavin stood up straight. “Now – time for you to take a shower. I’ll grab some of your clothes and then we can get you bandaged up.”

“Aye aye, captain.” Michael slowly lowered himself down from the counter and wandered over to the large shower.

“Oh, and Michael?”

When he turned towards the doorway, Gavin was looking at him strangely. “Yeah?”

The vampire took a long, shuddering breath. “I’m-” He paused, interrupting himself with a frown. A few moments later, he schooled his expression and tried again. “Please try not to pass out in my shower.”

Michael stared at the back of the door for several long seconds after it closed, thoughts whirling; what had Gavin really wanted to say to him? What was behind that weird look he’d had? Everything that night had gone so fast already that Michael wasn’t quite sure what to think. He forced himself to look away and turn the shower on – he could think about these things after he’d washed all of the blood and dirt away.

At first he scoffed at Gavin’s admonition but after only a few minutes, Michael felt himself starting to doze off while standing up, the events of the past few weeks catching up to him in waves. He eventually decided to just cut his shower short; it was probably a better idea to get patched up before he passed out, preferably somewhere warm and surrounded in soft blankets. Well, Michael figured he could sleep just about anywhere at that point but why not take advantage of his current circumstances?

He managed to get a fresh towel around himself before Gavin returned with clean clothes. The sight of the older man standing in the doorway to the bathroom holding the clothes and a small lopsided smile gracing his face sparked a growing fire deep in Michael’s bones, that oh so familiar pull in his gut nestled right back where it had been since the two of them met.

Gavin stepped further into the room and took a closer look at the bullet holes in Michael’s flesh. “I was hoping these would start healing a little faster but it looks like the wolfsbane remaining in your system is still affecting you for now.” He set the clothes down onto the lid of the toilet. “Let’s get the worst of them wrapped up so you at least don’t bleed on the sheets, shall we?”

“Okay.”

Any words that Michael wanted to say kept getting caught in his throat; how he felt like he would ignite at any moment when Gavin’s hands touched his bare skin; how the sound of Gavin’s heart beat vibrated in his own chest; how the very thought of sharing space again sent bolts of electricity up and down his spine. It took Gavin ten minutes to completely bandage up all of the wounds and in those ten minutes, Michael could barely breathe.

When Gavin moved away after finishing up, Michael watched him wash his hands, the sink now filled with pink water as his own blood flowed down the drain.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, eyes barely able to stay open. “It must be hard to clean up so much blood. You know, with all the smells and stuff.” Slowly, his muscles protesting the whole way, Michael managed to get the clean clothes on. “You ever get, I dunno...hungry?”

Gavin looked exasperated at that comment – exasperated, but fond. “I’d never harm you, you know that right?”

Michael flushed and dropped his gaze from Gavin’s eyes to his chest. “Sorry, I know, I’m just-”

“It’s ok Michael, I get it.” The vampire smiled again, that soft one that crinkled the corners of his eyes just so. “Now come on, let’s get you to bed.”

There was no room for argument in that tone but really, where else was there to go at that point?

With heavy steps, Michael followed Gavin out of the bathroom, his eyes zeroing in on the welcoming sight of the big couch in the living room – there was no way Gavin would want him in his bed after the stunt he’d pulled – but when he tried to continue walking, a warm hand took his and stopped him. Michael didn’t dare to turn around. If he was being honest with himself – which he didn’t have a good track record of in cases such as these – he knew that it was because he was scared, scared of what he might see when he looked at the man behind him. It was the same fear that had caused him to run away in the first place.

“Michael.” Gavin’s voice was low, barely a whisper but echoing inside Michael’s head like a shout.

In lieu of responding, Michael held his breath, his heart sore from pounding so fast for so long.

Gavin tried again, this time his words a little louder but no less intense. “Michael, please.”

“I-”

“Come back to bed with me.”

And oh, oh, how was he supposed to ignore that? How was Michael supposed to explain away that tone, the one that could only be described as _wanting?_ He could do nothing – was never really able to do anything – to resist the pull.

He was done running.

Michael emptied his lungs in a long exhale before turning to look at the other man; Gavin’s face was nothing but pleading, a tiny spark of hope just barely visible. “Okay.”

The bed was just as big and wonderfully plush as before, welcoming him back with its thick blankets and expensive sheets. Gavin guided him towards it and they both slid in under the covers in a mirror image of the last time. Only now instead of that unspoken resolution to stay apart, Michael found himself tucked once more against Gavin’s chest, his face nestled into the vampire’s collarbones. They fit together as if they were always meant to. And maybe they had; maybe this was exactly where they were supposed to end up. Michael dared not say anything in case he ruined it all again.

“You had me so worried,” Gavin murmured to fill the silence instead. He sounded both content and wary, his words rumbling through his throat.

The guilt was back in Michael’s chest. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled into the hollow of Gavin’s neck; the older man shivered at the barely there touch of lips against skin. “I just – I couldn’t-”

Gavin’s arms tightened around him. “No, you don’t have to explain it to me. You came back and that – that’s all that matters to me, alright? That you’re ok and you’re here.” Michael shivered at the feeling behind those words. “ _You’re here_.”

He _was_ there; safe and clean and cared for more than he deserved, more than he’d ever thought he could be. Michael held on tightly to the front of Gavin’s shirt and pulled himself somehow closer as wave after wave of longing crashed over him. He never wanted to be anywhere else.

No, he wasn’t going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, [you know](http://toasterness.tumblr.com) ;)


	8. Poisonous Blood

Mornings had never been Gavin’s favorite; he preferred the shadowed secrecy of night and the peacefulness that it brought. He had always been a night owl, falling right into the trap of vampire aesthetics without really trying but not caring in the slightest. He liked the chilled air, the sight of a starry night, the way the world felt all the more open to him in the hours before dawn. Yeah, sunrises were beautiful and all but the full moon in a perfectly clear sky? Gavin would pick that over morning fog and grouchy pedestrians any day.

But if he could wake up every day like this…

Well, then mornings would be his new favorite time of day.

Michael had shifted in his sleep so that he now lay on his side with his head on Gavin’s chest, one arm slung over the older man’s belly and their legs partially tangled. The shirt Michael wore was rucked up his stomach and showing off enough skin and lean muscle to make Gavin’s heart skip and every time Michael took a breath, his exhale would brush warm air over Gavin’s throat. He couldn’t help but run his fingers gently through the younger man’s hair. The _something_ in his chest grew roots around his heart.

It was late in the morning, if the light streaming through the bedroom curtains was anything to go by. Gavin had been awake for several hours at that point but he didn’t have it in himself to wake Michael up – he deserved the sleep. Besides, he figured it was ok to be a little selfish for once and enjoy the peace while it lasted. He would be content to lay in bed all day, wrapped up together with Michael, if only life would allow it.

He would have to wake Michael up eventually though; they needed to go back to Geoff and the others to work on a plan to stop the hunters responsible for the murders – and for harming Michael. Gavin knew that they would be able to help keep the werewolf safe and that they would all be able to solve the crimes if they just put their heads together. He was, for once, excited to work with other people, especially those who were either inhuman themselves or invested in keeping them safe.

At some point Gavin would have to contact the professor too; Dr. Adleman would definitely be able to aid their search for justice, his knowledge of the occult and hunters invaluable in a case like this. Gavin also wanted his friend’s presence, someone else who held a deeper understanding of things to get involved and be by his side. It would be good to finally introduce him to Michael, too, now that things were getting more dire; they could use all the help they could get.

A small grumble knocked Gavin out of his thoughts. He removed his hand from Michael’s hair and put it on his shoulder instead.

“Good morning, sleepy head.”

Michael groaned as he turned his face into Gavin’s shirt. “No.”

Gavin chuckled lightly and wrapped his free arm more around the other man. “Yes.”

The body in his arms suddenly stiffened, the realization of where he’d ended up seeming to register with Michael. It didn’t take long though for him to relax once more into the hold. After a few minutes of silence, he hesitatingly turned himself enough so that he was essentially on top of Gavin, grabbing the vampire’s arm to hold around himself even more. He started to fiddle with Gavin’s long fingers, a light flush spreading up his neck.

“Can’t we stay here a little longer?” He asked quietly.

With an amused huff, Gavin let himself briefly imagine spending the whole day in bed; it sounded...wonderful, soaking in the muted rays of sun spilling into the room, exploring the new and boundless understanding between them. But they had things to do. “I promise next time we will but I wanted to introduce you to some people today.”

Michael didn’t mention the reference to a _next time_ and it planted a seed of anticipation in Gavin’s chest. “Fine. What time is it anyway?” The werewolf asked.

“Judging by the sun, probably nearing noon.”

The werewolf let out another groan. “Ugh. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

“You definitely need it; those dark circles are not a good look on you,” Gavin teased, fully accepting the sharp jab to his waist he received in retaliation. “How’re your injuries?”

Michael stretched his limbs while remaining in Gavin’s embrace. “I feel stiff all over but everything doesn’t burn anymore, so that’s a good sign.”

“Mn, that’s good. I’ll take another look at them when you eventually set me free.” To illustrate his point, Gavin wiggled the shoulder where it was partially trapped beneath Michael; it was, in fact, starting to go a little numb.

“Pfft, you’re the one trapping me with your stupid superior vampire strength, oh great lord of the night.” Michael tugged on that same arm – the one he was holding to his own chest to entwine their hands together – but not nearly enough to dislodge himself. “Who’re these people you want me to meet?”

“They’re a group of hunters-”

“ _Excuse me??_ ”

“-who specialize in keeping the peace, in finding those who would do or have done harm. They even have inhumans on, uh, staff.”

“So what, are they some kinda fake hunters?” Michael didn’t sound all that convinced.

Gavin snorted. “Yeah, I guess you could say something like that. I’m not all that familiar with their work but their leader seems trustworthy enough and the second in command is a woman I’d really like to work with. I think you’ll like them, actually.”

Michael gave him a disbelieving glare. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Despite saying they needed to get up, Gavin stayed put for a few minutes longer; it was nice to just exist without worries, to enjoy the company of someone he cared for, and think about nothing other than the way Michael’s hand felt in his or the heat of their bodies pressed together. Reality could wait for a little while longer.

Michael was the first to get up, his movements slow as he slid out of bed. Gavin soon followed and they both went into the bathroom together. There had long since been a toothbrush and other such toiletries purchased and left there for Michael – little reminders of Michael’s presence were scattered around the whole apartment, not just here, evidence that he had and was allowed to take up space in Gavin’s life in a manner not allowed to other people – so they stood in front of the mirror and brushed their teeth as if they did it like this every morning. It was, by all accounts, the most domestic Gavin had felt in a very, very long time.

He could get used to it.

“Quit staring,” Michael admonished, though there was a faint tinge of pink to his cheeks that belied his outward grumpiness.

Gavin only hummed in response, a sly grin reflecting back in the mirror.

They got dressed separately after that, effortlessly moving around each other to pick out clothes and give each other privacy to change. Almost all of the pieces Michael ended up wearing were selected from the small collection meant just for him but Gavin was pleased almost to the point of being smug to see that the younger man was also wearing that one particular over-sized sweater again – apparently it was a favorite. The roots around his heart dug deeper.

It was Michael who made breakfast this time; he turned the coffee pot on and cooked a large serving of oatmeal, cutting apples into small pieces and pulling out the brown sugar from the baking cupboard. They enjoyed it mostly in silence, Gavin filling some of the quiet with what he knew about Geoff’s group – who his people were, the kinds of things they dealt with, what they were like. Michael asked a few questions but spent the majority of his time eating and watching Gavin speak.

Gavin felt like he was being laid open by that stare, like the other man could see everything he’d been holding back. But Michael was not afraid, had never been afraid, and all Gavin knew was that he would gladly let the werewolf take him apart piece by bloody piece if it meant that he would never take his eyes of him. A disturbing thought, yes, but if the truth was ever anything, it was messy.

They quickly packed some clothes and supplies in anticipation of hiding out with the other crew for awhile. On the way down to the underground garage where Gavin’s car was parked, they stayed close together; there were sparse inches between them – Gavin could feel the heat from Michael's body and his brain kept telling him to _take his hand take his hand take his hand_ – but not once did they touch, despite having been wrapped up in each others arms not long ago. Even in the car during the drive to Geoff’s warehouse, Michael's arm rested on the middle console, tempting in its brazen placement, though Gavin couldn’t convince himself to reach out. It was almost nice though, the easy yet charged air, and how Michael kept sneaking glances at him the whole way; to be wanted – now _that_ was a feeling he would never tire of.

Geoff was at the door as soon as the two of them pulled up, quickly ushering them inside. The warehouse was well lit this time and Gavin finally got a good look at it: wide, open spaces with a corner devoted to a huge collection of computer equipment, a sizable gym setup against another wall, and an armory that would make even Merryweather jealous. Gavin was surprised to see weapons from centuries passed, like the bows that he used during his earlier years and even long Damascus knives like the ones that he used to this day. It made sense, being that hunters needed different weapons for different monsters.

“You must be Micheal,” Geoff said, addressing the werewolf once the front door was shut and locked.

Michael regarded the older man with a critical eye. “That’s me. And you’re Geoff.”

“Correct. And this-” the redheaded woman Gavin had already met came walking over from the computers. “-is Jack, my partner.”

Jack stuck her hand out to shake and Michael begrudgingly took it. “Lovely to meet you! Would you like to meet the others? We can get the introductions over with and then we can get started on planning.”

She led them over to the gym area where Jeremy was working out, his skin covered in sweat and a light dusting of pale green scales. He stopped what he was doing when they walked up.

“Jeremy, this is Michael. Michael, this is Jeremy, our resident basilisk.”

The man in question grinned widely at Michael, his teeth just a tad too sharp to be human, a predatory glint sparking in his eyes. “So you’re the werewolf, huh?”

Gavin could tell that Michael was still tense, though the presence of another inhuman seemed to calm his nerves a little. “Last time I checked.”

The smile on Jeremy’s face somehow grew bigger. “Fuck yeah.”

Michael responded with a small smirk of his own.

“Don’t forget about me!”

There was a _swoosh_ of cold air and then suddenly the semi-transparent form of Lindsay was floating in front of them resting her chin on her arms on top of Jeremy’s head; the basilisk looked up at her in faux exasperation. She, for her part, looked immensely pleased with herself.

“What the fuck...” Michael said under his breath so that only Gavin could hear him.

“Hi! I’m Lindsay! I’m very dead, as you can probably tell, and I’m super excited to meet someone new.” She glanced side to side before lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Don’t let the guys know but sometimes they can be a bit, you know, _boring_.”

Jeremy frowned. “Hey!”

“You really can’t blame me though! It’s tough for a girl stuck in limbo!”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Geoff admonished. “We’ve still got a couple others to meet.”

They quickly made their rounds and were introduced to the rest of the crew. Gavin had yet to meet them in person as well, so it was a welcome experience. Over by the computers, a younger man named Matt waved hello over his shoulder at them ( _he’s a boring ol’ human_ , Lindsay had informed them with a fond expression plain as day on her face) and a young woman who said her name was Fiona spoke to them quietly in a voice that sometimes sounded like a thousand people were talking at once. Over in the armory, a tall man with blue and gold feathers in his hair and piercing yellow eyes smiled and told them his name was Alfredo.

It was a small crew but Gavin already liked them and could tell that they all cared for each other deeply, something that the vampire admired – and was, admittedly, vaguely jealous of. If they were as competent as they seemed, he was confident that they could both help keep Michael safe and be of great assistance in dealing justice upon the hunters responsible for the recent murders. And judging by the way Michael relaxed more and more with every person they met, the werewolf was also willing to give them a try. They would have to discuss it in more detail in private later but Gavin was ready to get started.

“That about wraps it up, I think,” Jack announced while gesturing for the group to move over to a large table near the computers. “Unfortunately, Trevor is out on assignment right now but he should be back later tonight. He’s the best at recon, so he’s been scouting the most likely places for new attacks and trying to find where these hunters are hiding.”

Lindsay stuck her tongue out. “He’s only the best because he’s literally made of shadow,” she complained. “I’d be just as good, if not better!”

“You’d have to get unattached from Matt first, and he barely leaves the warehouse.” Jeremy’s face said that this was an old argument.

“It’s not my fault I got stuck haunting him!”

When Gavin looked over at Matt, the younger man just looked bored, like this was a common occurrence.

“Children!” Jack clapped her hands together. “Could we please save this for another time? We have guests.”

Jeremy and Lindsay both looked appropriately guilty, though they still stuck their tongues out at each other when Jack wasn’t looking, Jeremy’s long and forked.

Once everyone was seated, Geoff ran his fingers through his messy hair and sighed heavily. “Alright guys, let’s get to it; it’s time to catch us some killers.”

................................

Michael was, for lack of a better term, fucking exhausted. Again. It felt like he hadn't slept at all despite having the best sleep of his life the night before – being wrapped up in the arms of a ridiculously good looking and warm-blooded vampire will do that to a person. He'd felt alright during the day but the longer it dragged on, the more tired he became. Don't get him wrong, he was happy that it felt like they were finally getting somewhere with the whole being hunted down by crazy people thing, it's just that being around so many people for so long drained him.

Despite this, he actually really liked them; Michael was kind of a recluse by nature and usually more gruff than the average person wanted to deal with, yet the ‘fake’ hunters all seemed pretty cool. Lindsay was chaos incarnate and Jeremy had a matching sense of humor to his own, making it oh so easy to get along with them. Matt, Alfredo, and Fiona tended to keep off in their own little world but even they were their own kind of interesting. And Jack and Geoff worked so seamlessly together that Michael was sure there was something else going on there. Whatever the case, none of his hackles were raised.

They'd given Gavin and him a room down the hall next to Geoff's office where they could stay. It had a table with two chairs, a TV, and a fold out couch bed that was barely a queen, and even though the two of them had quite literally spent the night before tangled up together, the thought of sharing this bed gave Michael pleasant goosebumps.

Gavin had convinced the others that his professor friend would be a great asset in their search and Geoff had agreed to him coming in to talk. Apparently this Dr. Adleman was an expert in all things weird and Gavin trusted him, even so much as to reveal his true identity. Michael was always skeptical of new people but if Gavin said he was credible, then who was he to argue? The professor would be there later in the evening, after classes, so Michael took the opportunity to have a little nap; he didn’t bother pulling the bed out and fell asleep as soon as he lay down on the couch.

A gentle hand to his shoulder woke Michael up – Gavin stood next to where he’d been sleeping, a subtle fondness in his eyes.

“Sorry to wake you but Dr. Adleman will be here shortly,” the vampire explained as he pulled his hand away.

Michael rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes and sat up. “Geoff come up with any other ideas on why I wasn’t healing from those bullets even after you took them out?”

“No,” Gavin replied with a sigh. “He and Matt examined the pieces we brought in some more and they both concluded what we had already discovered – that they were laced with wolfsbane, though that doesn’t completely rule out anything else being present as well. Even Matt admitted that they weren’t aware of every substance or method of harming inhuman creatures.”

“Well that’s reassuring.”

The two of them left the room and made their way towards the main area, Gavin chuckling lightly as they walked. “Could be worse – at least we know how to deal with wolfsbane.”

Michael yawned. “Mn.”

Back at the large meeting table, everyone else was already seated. Well, except Lindsay, who apparently felt the need to float on her back directly over the middle of the table. The others were listening to Geoff as he lectured about security improvements and how they were going to deal with the possibility that the other hunters they were after would find their way to the warehouse. Jack looked over and smiled as Michael and Gavin approached. Two seconds later and there was a light knock at the door.

Geoff furrowed his brow and glared at the door. “Lindsay.”

“On it, boss!” The poltergeist disappeared with a soft _pop!_ and was only gone about ten seconds before reappearing next to Jack. “It’s some old dude with an ugly tweed jacket. That your doc, Gavin?”

When Michael looked over at the vampire, Gavin was smiling. “Yes, that’ll be Dr. Adleman. Shall I let him in?”

Across the table, Fiona stood up and started walking away. “Come on Linds, we’re on guard duty.”

Lindsay floated over to the other woman and saluted backwards at the rest of them.

“Guard duty?” Gavin questioned.

“You may trust this guy, Free, but I don’t know him from Adam and I like keeping all my bases covered.” Michael watched as Geoff surreptitiously adjusted the belt holster sitting at his hip, black handgun nestled carefully within; glancing at Gavin, the older man also seemed to see him looking, his eyes squinting almost unnoticeably. “The girls are only here for reassurances; as long as your professor doesn’t do anything funny, everything will be fine.”

Michael found this to be completely reasonable – even if Gavin had all the faith in the world that Dr. Adleman was a curious scholar and nothing more, this wasn’t his home and there were other things at risk. One look at Gavin told him that even the vampire was at least mostly in agreement.

“I’m gonna get back to work,” Matt said in a tired voice. “Call me if you need me.”

Jeremy stood up too but started walking to the door instead of following the other man. “I’ll let the doc in.”

The following half hour went by in a bit of a blur; Michael spent most of it a little lost as Geoff, Jack, Gavin, and Dr. Adleman compared notes. His only companion was Jeremy, who looked just as confused and kept making weird faces that made Michael have to hold in laughter. At some point, Jack brought up their mission of finding the hunters responsible for the recent murders and the professor seemed to perk up, saying something about paying extra attention to the news reports to try and help Gavin.

“I was unable to find anything useful in the end,” he said, German accent clipping the ends of some of his words. “But I am glad that Mr. Free has found you so that things may be cleared up.” Michael startled when the old man’s eyes found his briefly before looking at Gavin with a knowing smirk. “I am also glad that he was able to be reunited with Mr. Jones here – he was quite out of sorts for a few weeks there.”

Michael stared at the side of Gavin’s face but the vampire refused to look at him; there was the faintest pink tinge to the tips of his ears.

Dr. Adleman spoke again, startling Michael out of his observations. “Ah, speaking of – may I take a look at your injuries, Mr. Jones?”

“Uh, yeah? Sure.” Never one to be shy, Michael grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, the bulk of his wounds collected on and around his torso. He didn’t feel self-conscious while Dr. Adleman came closer and paced around him, examining him carefully, but he did feel a flush of his own on the back of his neck at the feeling of Gavin watching. “See anything interesting, doc?”

With a small chuckle, the professor pulled Michael’s arm out to get a closer look at the puckered skin where one of the bullets had needed to be dug out the night before. “Oh, I consider everything about you interesting, Mr. Jones!” At this, Michael felt a little queasy but he wasn’t sure why, whether it was from the professor’s words or something else. “But in regards to your wounds, I do not know enough to make any claims. As it is, many of my former assumptions about werewolves have already been refuted by your vampire friend.” He smoothed his thumb over the fresh scar almost reverently, Michael’s skin burning a little at the contact. “So it is true that these did not start healing until the trapped bullets were removed?”

“Yeah,” Michael confirmed. “I spent far too many days covered in my own blood for me not to notice that when Gavin pulled them out, they started getting better. Way too slowly, but better.”

The professor hummed and dropped Michael’s arm before standing up straight and addressing Gavin. “You said the bullets were not made of silver?”

Gavin shook his head. “I’ve told you before that silver is almost always harmless.”

“Always good to check!”

“They were tainted with wolfsbane though,” Gavin continued.

Tapping his chin thoughtfully. “A very appropriate name, I would say.”

Michael didn’t like the way Dr. Adleman looked at Gavin – he couldn’t put his finger on _why_ exactly but he just had a gut feeling, his instincts telling him that those eyes were too angry, too hungry or disgusted or _something_. Nothing had happened or been said that might have tipped him off to anything dangerous, so why was he thinking any of this? Gavin was clearly close with him, and Lindsay and Fiona hadn’t come out yet, so things should have been totally fine. So, like he sometimes did, Michael blamed those feelings on his exhaustion and moved on to other things. Others things such as that new, weird scent coming from somewhere nearby.

It was subtle, barely enough for even his heightened senses to pick up, cloyingly sweet and bitter at the same time. Michael was reminded of honeysuckle, or maybe apple blossoms, the faintest of floral hints weaving in and out. He couldn’t quite place either the scent itself nor where exactly it was coming from; none of Geoff’s crew had smelled like that earlier, and Gavin sure as hell didn’t smell like flowers, so it had to be the professor. Except it really didn’t seem to be coming from him either.

Whatever the case, Michael was quite done with being examined; he was even more tired than before, his eyes drooping and limbs feeling heavy. Dr. Adleman was finished so he could go take another nap, right? Maybe he could convince Gavin to join him too. That would be nice.

“-ael. Michael.”

Speaking of the vampire, that was definitely his voice.

“Mn?” Michael tried to open his eyes wider and focus on Gavin but couldn’t quite get it right. “What’s up?” His words sounded slurred even to himself; he took back his earlier conclusion that everything was fine.

Gavin placed a warm hand on his shoulder and Michael leaned into it, suddenly feeling a heavy wave of vertigo. “Michael, are you feeling well? Do you need to go lay down?”

It took all of Michael’s energy to lift his head and lock eyes with the other man. “I don’t...feel right.”

“Are you sure you got all of the metal out of him?” Dr. Adleman asked as he leaned in closer, placing his own fingers at Michael’s nick like he was checking for a pulse.

The scent became even stronger and it became clear, even to Michael’s foggy brain, that the professor really _was_ the source. Michael tried to move away but only ended up slipping a little off of his chair, Gavin quickly grabbing his arm to hold him steady. Moaning low in his throat in a way that was almost like a growl, Michael turned his gaze onto Dr. Adleman; the old man’s eyes were filled with an arrogant rage and Michael knew he had to get away.

Gavin was still addressing his friend. “I’m sure – I couldn’t smell anything else on him and I was careful to inspect each of his wounds.”

“Maybe you are mistaken?” The professor replied, shifting even closer. “He still has some sort of odor about him.”

Michael heard Gavin take a deep breath and then the exact moment when the vampire smelled it, that strange aroma that made the werewolf’s head swim. And then a split second after that, Gavin was being aggressively pulled away and the cold sharpness of a knife was pressed into Michael’s neck as he was yanked up and away by a deceptively strong Dr. Adleman. The scent became incredibly strong, the blade and the old man’s hands utterly reeking of what could now only be described as decomposing flowers.

“Get off him!” Came Geoff’s voice from somewhere off to the side – Michael was having trouble identifying up from down at that point.

There was a shuffling from the same direction and the knife dug in a little more. “Ah ah ah,” Dr. Adleman chided with a voice dripping in self-satisfaction as he maneuvered Michael away from the others. “If you come any closer, I am afraid that I do not know what I will do to your precious dog here.”

“How _dare_ you.”

Michael had never heard Gavin use that tone of voice before; it was cold and venomous and just on this side of manic. Something in it screamed _I will hurt you_ and despite the way he felt like passing out from the dizziness, Michael felt the hair raise all over his skin – so this was where the terrifying Night Stalker was hiding, dreadful and lethal as he was said to be, completely different from the gentle man he knew. All of the fear he should have felt though, all of the terror a normal person should feel, was lost among the intense trust that Michael had in the vampire.

Dr. Adleman made no moves to let Michael go, simply laughing at Gavin’s accusation. “How dare I? Why Mr. Free, you really have no one else to blame but yourself; how else was I to infiltrate this lovely place without acquiring your utmost trust?” Michael felt sick to his stomach, in more ways than one. “Honestly, I’ve been _right here_ all along – you had ample opportunity to find me out but you could not. And now – ha! – now I have your ‘ _friend_ ’ and I think we will be going. I wanted the vampire and these other so called ‘hunters’ but I think a werewolf will do for now.”

The sound of multiple guns being drawn and armed reached Michael’s ears through the fog that was starting to envelope his entire world, along with two female voices murmuring and who he thought was Jack furiously whispering what sounded like ‘ready yourselves’. But Dr. Adleman had come prepared – the knife at Michael’s throat dug in a little more, the poison stinging his nostrils and rendering him useless. If he was in his right mind, he might have exploded in violent fury.

“Do not try anything stupid or I will end this filth’s life in an instant.”

Ever the stubborn bastard, Gavin still stepped forward into Michael’s limited and very blurry point of view, two long knives of his own now held tightly in his hands. “Let. Him. _Go_.”

“And why should I do that, Mr. Free?” Dr. Adleman adjusted his hold on Michael with little effort.

Gavin’s voice was acidic. “You said you wanted the vampire – well, here I am; let him go and take me.”

Dr. Adleman laughed loudly, the knife twitching dangerously at Michael’s throat, Gavin’s eyes flashing red as a small bead of blood dripping down Michael’s neck. “Ah, but I will always have the chance to kill you another time – I am not going to pass on this particular opportunity now that it has presented itself,” the hunter bragged.

And then everything fell apart.

One second Michael was being held at poisoned knife point and the next he was falling to the ground like a rag doll, the blurry form of Gavin rushing by him. He could feel the frigid touch of Lindsay as she fruitlessly attempted to hold him up – she must have been the one to distract Dr. Adleman enough so that he dropped Michael. With the scent of whatever poison the professor had been using now far away from him, Michael’s head began to clear agonizingly slowly.

About fifty feet away, Dr. Adleman was backing up towards the front door with a gun now pointed in their direction, knife forgotten on the ground. For a moment, everything stood still, time paused as if everyone was waiting for someone else to move first. Then Michael blinked and Gavin was lunging at the professor.

Gunshots rang out in the echoing chamber of the warehouse but Gavin kept running even as his former friend bolted out the door. Gavin had to duck behind several pieces of machinery and crates to avoid getting hit and by the time he reached the door, Dr. Adleman was gone. Michael expected the vampire to keep chasing him but instead Gavin turned around to look in his direction, conflicted worry clear as day on his face.

“Jeremy, Alfredo, go around front!” Geoff shouted from somewhere nearby; several muffled voices responded but Michael couldn’t hear them clearly.

He could only keep his focus on one thing at a time and right then it was Gavin, who had started walking back towards him with that same concern still saturating his gaze.

The vampire made it halfway before he stopped, swaying on his feet slightly, and looked down to his waist questioningly before brushing his hand against it. The surprise on his face mirrored that on Michael’s as they both observed the deep crimson liquid now staining the blonde’s fingers. Gavin looked up into Michael’s eyes again and tried to take another step forward.

“Oh,” was all he managed to say before dropping to the ground, a puppet with his strings cut.

One second. Two seconds. Three. Four.

Michael screamed.

There was far too much blood, way more than there should have been seeping out from under Gavin’s prone form and pooling around his hips. How could there be so much blood? He shouldn’t have been taken down by one shot. Michael needed to get to him, needed to figure out why the vampire had collapsed and why there was so much blood. His body objected but he pushed and pushed until he was dragging himself towards the other man.

“Gavin!” He cried, voice sounding ragged and distorted through the fog in his head. “ _Gavin!_ ”

The chilling sensation of ghostly hands wavering over his skin alerted him to Lindsay’s presence again. “It’s gonna be ok, Michael; Jack’s on it, she’ll help him.”

He ignored her, concentrating solely on reaching Gavin. It took every ounce of energy to do it but eventually Michael was able to curl his knees under himself and reach trembling hands out to find the bullet wound. Jack crouched next to him and dug through what must have been some sort of a med kit.

"You stupid asshole, what the fuck were you thinking??" Michael ground out.

The other man could barely focus his eyes on Michael, his breaths growing more ragged as he tried to speak. "'M'sorry."

Michael's insides churned; no matter how hard he pressed down or how much time passed, blood continued to seep from between his fingers. "What’s happening? Why the fuck aren't you healing?" He demanded in a choked voice. "You're a vampire, aren't you supposed to be able to heal??"

Gavin's only response was to choke a little on his own blood.

With blood-slick fingers, Michael placed one hand along the side of Gavin's face to cup his cheek and turn it to look at him. "You are not allowed to die, you god damn idiot, you hear me?? You don't get to live for hundreds of years just to lose it all to a fucking poisoned BULLET!"

"...s'ry..."

Michael could feel the hot sparks of angry tears forming and he couldn't stop them, not with how muddled his brain still was. "God dammit! You don't get to do this! Not when I – we're not finished, I'm not fucking done with you!" Gavin’s skin under Michael's hand felt chilled to the touch, a stark contrast to the heat he’d felt when they’d shared the bed. "You don't get to just leave me in this shit hole of a city, not when you – fuck! – when you keep me safe, make me, make me-"

Dark blood dribbled out the corner of Gavin's lips as he tried to form words but nothing came out. He coughed wetly, though it sounded more like gargling. Michael stroked his thumb gently across the vampire's cheekbone despite the rage he felt inside.

"Whose shirts am I gonna steal if you – if you leave me, huh? Whose gonna make sure I eat a complete breakfast and get a full night's sleep?" He continued to put pressure on the wound but Gavin's blood continued to flow. Michael looked back at Jack, furious desperation in his eyes. "How do we save him?"

"I don't-"

"How the FUCK do we save him??"

The redhead could only look at him helplessly, arms halfway raised in placation. "I'm sorry, I don't know how – didn’t you say you started healing once the bullets were removed?” At Michael’s nod, she slipped her hand behind Gavin’s back and felt around for a few seconds before swearing. “It was a clean shot, went all the way through; his healing factor should have kicked in by now.”

“Maybe they upped their dose when they figured out they’re original recipe didn’t take Michael down the first few times,” Lindsay hypothesized.

“It would make sense...whatever the case, we need to get him somewhere where he can be patched up, _now_ , and we can’t stay here. _”_

Michael's heart was pounding in his ears, the others’ voices muted as he stared at Gavin’s now unmoving face. It couldn't end like this, it just couldn't; he refused to accept it, not when they hadn't gotten to the point of exploring whatever the hell it was between them. Michael had plans! He was going to tell him all of the weird feelings he got when they were near each other and kiss him stupid and then finally drag that god damn vampire into his room and celebrate all night. He was going to show Gavin how important he was to him.

He was going to show him how _good_ he was.

It was hard to tell what happened after that; Michael was pretty sure he saw Geoff kneeling at Gavin’s side, and a new voice mumbling near his head sounded an awful lot like Fiona, but all of his thoughts kept getting all sorts of mixed up and wispy. He was vaguely aware of Jack grabbing onto his jaw, something cold being sprayed into his nose that made his eyes water, and of someone holding his shoulder.

“Gav-” he started to call out again; smooth fingers gently held the side of his face and rotated his head to look into the young face of Fiona.

“Shh, you need to stop yelling,” she told him, not unkindly, in that strange, multi-layered voice. “Just go to sleep, things are gonna be fine.”

Michael didn’t believe her. How could he? That fucking maniac of a professor – if he even _was_ one – had gotten away and Gavin was seriously injured, maybe even dying, and here he was trapped in his own god damn head. How was any of this going to be fine?

Things had been so, _so_ good just that morning – how had they gone to shit so fast? Michael should have known better than to think he was actually going to be allowed something good in his life for once and for it to last longer than one night. Really, he should have better appreciated his time with Gavin because now all he could think about was _blood_. Black shadows raced in at the edges of his vision and he felt himself drift further and further from reality, all of the sounds around him fading away.

The last thing that ran through Michael’s head before oblivion took him was Gavin falling, shocked face staring right into his soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the slight delay; we had a big wind storm up here that knocked out the power. But here it is! Hope you like it despite the suffering >:)
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://toasterness.tumblr.com) if you need to yell!


	9. No More

_Wake up._

_Please wake up._

Four days. It had been four days since Dr. Adleman’s betrayal and Gavin’s subsequent almost-death. Michael had been unconscious for two of them but had spent the next two planted firmly in the chair at the side of the vampire’s bed. Whatever concentrated combination of poisons that had taken him down had been somehow leeched from his body by an aggregation of Jeremy’s mystical basilisk powers and Jack’s medical talents but he remained comatose with no signs of waking up any time soon, though the hole left behind by the bullet had finally closed up. No more worse for wear than he had been before the attack, Michael hadn’t left Gavin’s side.

He spent most of that time repeating the mantra of _please wake up_ over and over again in his head and trying not to fall apart completely. He felt too big for his skin, like he was constantly on the verge of bursting at the seams and dissipating into the air. Any food that the others brought him was barely picked at and the only words he spoke weren’t really words at all, just pathetic whimpers that he tried and failed to hide.

Those two days of waiting gave Michael far too much time to think; he reevaluated every single moment he had spent with Gavin, every word they said to each other, every lingering glance, and especially all of the subtle touches they exchanged without any real thought behind them. Not once had he stopped to consider the implications behind them or noticed how they’d added together over time without him seeing it. Everything had seemed so natural, so _right_ , that he’d never bothered to question it.

God, he wished so much that he’d been able to see it sooner.

A quiet knock came from the door and someone entered the room, interrupting Michael’s spiraling thoughts.

“Hey there,” Jack said as she sat in the only other chair. “Any changes?”

Michael continued to stare at Gavin’s sleeping face. “No.”

“And...how are _you_ feeling?”

Jack had made it a habit to check in on him every few hours but up to that point had not attempted to pry into his thoughts, which Michael had appreciated; he struggled with the question now that it had been asked.

Because how was he supposed to articulate what he was feeling when he wasn't even sure himself? How could he even begin to describe the empty pit in his chest, or the festering guilt that had taken root in his lungs, or the way his heart ached and ached and _ached?_ He didn't have words big or complex enough to explain how every intake of breath made him feel further and further from the man in the bed next to him. Gavin had become his safe harbor, his refuge in the never ending storm that was his life – Michael was adrift without him, left to rot in the great expanse of his own loneliness.

He'd never meant for Gavin to become so crucial to his very existence but by the time he'd realized they were intertwined with no way to loosen the knot, it was too late; they were two planets caught in the same orbit, dancing around each other in a cosmic tragedy – it had never been a question of _if_ they would eventually crash together but _when_. And now, sitting there with no way to know if Gavin would ever wake up, Michael was terrified that they would never get that chance.

Of course he blamed himself; if only he'd been more wary of the professor, had realized sooner what was happening; if only he had reacted quicker to Dr. Adleman’s attack or hadn't been so stupid in general and gotten himself in so much danger in the first place – if only, if only, if only.

Regret tasted bitter on his tongue, the iron tang of blood that wasn't his staining Michael's mouth. It almost felt cruel to be sitting next to an immortal creature who was dying; the irony stung like a fresh paper cut.

Except Gavin wasn't dying – he couldn't, he just couldn't. At least that's what Michael had to keep telling himself to stave off the madness threatening to overtake him. Jack was a gentle comfort at the back of his mind but there wasn't anything to be done about the endless onslaught of grief that washed over Michael, drowning him in an agony he could do nothing except feel he deserved.

What if Gavin didn't make it? What if his impossibly long life was cut short by misguided trust and a bullet meant for someone else? The world would lose a soul old enough to intimately know the sound of time passing, who had touched the face of death and laughed in her face.

Michael would lose a piece of his heart that he’d only recently discovered he was missing.

"I can't lose him," he whispered hoarsely, whether to himself or Jack, even he wasn't sure, his eyes never leaving Gavin’s sleeping face.

The redhead carefully grasped Michael's forearm, the one holding on to Gavin's cold hand as if the younger man was afraid he would somehow drift away. "He's not gone yet," she reminded him. "He _will_ come back to you."

Michael didn't question how she knew how he felt about the vampire; he kind of figured it must have been obvious to everyone but himself at that point.

"I think..." He cleared his throat. “I think I love him."

She smiled bitter-sweetly at him. "Yeah, I'd reckon you do, too."

Hot tears slipped unhindered down Michael's face as he turned to Jack. " _It hurts_."

There was understanding in his new friend's face as she squeezed his arm before letting go and leaning back in her chair. "I'd say it gets better but I'd be lying. Love is brutal and has the capacity to hurt you even when everything is going well. Every time Geoff goes out on a hunt – with or without me – my stomach stays in knots until he returns to me or I know we're safe." The laugh she huffed was dry and humorless. "I'm practically terrified 24/7 even though I know he's the best there is and he wouldn't ever do something to me as stupid as getting hurt but god, I can't help it."

"I've never – I don't – I don’t know how to feel." Michael couldn't raise his voice more than a murmur, turning back to stare at Gavin. "Or, at least, I don't know what to do with what I feel because it’s so _much_.”

Jack was silent for a few long seconds, the only sound Gavin’s barely-there breaths rattling in his chest; Michael gripped the vampire’s hand tighter and took a shuddering breath of his own.

“There is no stronger emotion than love, I think,” she started, words delicate yet assured. “And when so much of it is forced to be contained in one single body – well, there’s not much else it can do but burn.”

Michael choked back a small sob. “What do _I_ do?”

Warmth enveloped the hand he held Gavin’s with as Jack’s lay hers on top. “You burn, Michael; you burn for him and when he wakes up – because he _will_ wake up – you let it out and you love him with all you have because if you have to hurt, you shouldn’t do it alone.”

Burn, huh? Michael could do that.

He would burn for however long it took for Gavin to come home.

................................

Gavin knew he was in a dream the instant Michael kissed him.

At the start, everything had seemed completely normal: his flat was filled with boisterous chatter as Michael joked about something or other, the sounds of the city below echoed distantly, and he was _happy_. Presumably Michael had arrived for another one of his sporadic visits because his hair was damp from a shower and he was wearing one of Gavin’s over-sized sweaters with nothing else but boxers on while seated on the kitchen counter eating a 2:00 am breakfast. Things were in their place, as they should be.

Except Michael never looked at him like that, did he? All hooded eyes and shy smile. Gavin certainly never approached him to stand between the werewolf’s legs, hands place possessively on his thighs. And Michael never, not ever, kissed him like that. Never kissed him at all.

Which is why it all had to be a dream. A wonderful dream but a dream nonetheless. But that didn’t prevent him from letting the kiss continue, to linger on his lips the way he’d been imagining for weeks; it felt so real and for just a moment, Gavin desperately didn’t want to wake up – he wanted to remain in this space forever, this space where Michael was his and he was Michael’s, this space where he could set all of his feelings free without fear of rejection or consequence.

Life had a way of fucking him over though and Gavin suddenly found himself holding up Michael’s limp body as the younger man collapsed into his arms, breath coming in gasps. He was back in the warehouse with the hunters and Dr. Adleman, that lying piece of shit, and Michael had been poisoned. Reliving it hurt almost as much as watching it the first time – he was helpless and full of rage and hated himself for falling into this trap.

And then the world was shifting again and he was suddenly back in his apartment at the start of the dream, Michael sitting on the counter once again, exactly as he had been before. He paused his rambling and looked at Gavin with concern.

“Gav?”

Gavin jerked forward back into his position between the brunette’s legs. He shakily cupped Michael’s face in his hands. “You’re ok,” he whispered.

Michael smiled at him and placed one of his own hands on top of Gavin’s. “Course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

This time, when Michael pulled him in for the kiss, Gavin let himself fall into the dream and didn’t look back.

................................

Day six finally brought a close to Michael’s watch; he was drifting in and out of sleep, head resting on the edge of Gavin’s bed, when the vampire’s body shifted. Michael jerked his head up and stared down into half open hazel eyes, heart threatening to pound straight out of his chest.

"Hey there."

The familiar voice was breathy and low but Michael had never been so happy to hear someone speak in his entire life.

"Don't you ever do something like that again," he growled even while dropping his forehead onto Gavin's chest. He could feel tears beginning to form but resolutely refused to let the other man see them.

Gavin chuckled deeply, vibrating against Michael's face. "Didn't really plan on it this time but I'll do my best to prevent a repeat."

"You better," Michael warned with a wet mumble into the vampire's shirt.

A warm hand landed almost hesitantly on the back of the brunette's head, long fingers slowly carding through the curls. "I'm sorry to have worried you, love."

"You worried all of us," Jack said from across the room – Michael hadn’t even noticed that she was there. "Though Michael was the one who hasn't left your side the whole time you were out."

"Oh?" Gavin's hand paused its ministrations.

Michael’s ears warmed at Jack's admission. "I was tired and didn't feel like moving." Which wasn't necessarily a lie; the whole ordeal had been utterly exhausting, after all.

Fingers once again moving in Michael's hair, Gavin laughed quietly again. Quickly though, it turned into a hiss as the movement pulled on his recently closed injury. Spurred by the sound and the full-body flinch it elicited, Michael immediately sat bolt upright, suddenly afraid that he'd hurt the other man.

At Michael's panicked expression, Gavin forced his grimace into a half smile. "I'm alright, just need to stop moving so much." He carefully pressed a palm to his side where bandages still covered the bullet wound that almost killed him; he winced, frowning slightly. "Seems the professor did quite the number on me, huh?"

"Don't touch it, idiot!" Michael admonished, yanking Gavin’s hand away.

"Keep acting like that, Michael, and you might convince me you care."

A flush spread across Michael's face. He knew Gavin was only teasing but his words still stung. "Shut up, I'm still mad at you."

The look that the older man gave him held an emotion that Michael couldn't decipher but that made something heavy and confusing settle deep in his gut. He shivered and looked away, busying himself with shuffling the various medical supplies on the table next to the bed.

“It wasn’t just a bullet that took you out,” Jack explained.

Gavin hummed. “More poison?”

“Something we didn’t recognize at first but seems to be some sort of mix of wolfsbane, iron powder, and mountain ash.” Jack handed him a glass of water. “We couldn’t find a bullet but you still weren’t healing, so we assume it was mostly used as a delivery system. Jeremy was able to pull most of the toxins out of your system but a large portion had already entered your bloodstream – we couldn’t do anything else except wait it out.”

Michael shivered at the reminder of how little they actually knew about Dr. Adleman’s poison; he’d been so close to losing Gavin and it had all come down to _waiting_. Helplessness had been his closest companion during all of this and he visibly trembled at the thought. Something touched his hand and he glanced down to see that Gavin had laced their fingers together in comfort, though his light eyes were still focused on Jack. Sparks lit up his body at the contact.

“I’m not surprised that the professor was able to concoct something so potent; it was me, after all, that essentially told him exactly how to best kill me.” Guilt clouded his features as his eyes flicked over to Michael’s briefly. “And Michael.”

“You didn’t know,” Michael murmured back. He slowly rubbed his thumb on the back of Gavin’s in comfort.

“It doesn’t change the fact that I still fell for his act. I should have known better, and I shouldn’t have hesitated when he was right there in front of me.”

Jack lightly knocked once on the table with her knuckle, letting the air settle for a few seconds before moving towards the door. “I’ll go let the others know you’re awake.”

Carefully, Michael lifted their conjoined hands to his chest and pressed them there so that Gavin could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. “If it matters to you, then I forgive you.” He tried to smile but he knew it must have came across all sorts of wobbly. “I’m also still alive because of you. Again. So there’s that.”

Gavin grinned back at him, though the guilt was not completely gone from his face. “We really need to stop meeting up like that, don’t we?”

Michael gave no response except to huff out a small laugh and lean back down to lay his head next to Gavin’s on the pillow, their conjoined hands now resting in between their bodies. Now that he knew Gavin was going to be ok, sleep once again began pulling him into its grasp.

“Tired?”

“Mn.”

“Alright then, sleep well. And don’t worry – I’m not going anywhere.”

The vampire readjusted his position slightly and Michael could have sworn he felt a gentle press of lips to the crown of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am only a little bit sorry :)


	10. A Taste So Sweet

As it turned out, their new hunter friends had transferred them to a large yacht out off the coast of Chumas; it normally served as their mobile base of operations but had been converted for more permanent residence after the attack on the warehouse compromised their location. The boat was so big and the waters mostly calm that they could barely feel it rocking in the waves. Geoff had assured them that they were very safe and that they were keeping extra watch to ensure that promise.

Michael, for his part, had barely left Gavin’s side since he’d woken up. Which, really, was the most pleasant thing about the whole experience, if the vampire was being honest with himself. And why shouldn’t it be? It felt so good to be near the younger man that Gavin barely even noticed the stabbing pain in his side.

Ok, so that was a lie – it was incredibly hard not to notice the pain – but Michael was a perfectly good distraction; while Gavin spent most of his time slipping in and out of sleep while propped up on several large pillows, the werewolf continued to keep dedicated vigil, sometimes napping in his own chair with his head tipped back and mouth wide open, sometimes running his fingers soothingly through Gavin’s hair. He was healing far too slowly for his own liking but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

Well, maybe that was a lie too, but he didn’t have the energy to go to shore for a meal and he was pretty sure that Geoff and the others didn’t keep blood bags handy.

“Why aren’t you better yet?”

It was just like Michael to basically read his mind.

Gavin shifted his gaze from out the small window and the view of the clear night sky to Michael’s brown eyes; the younger man was staring at him from where he was leaning against the arm of his chair. “Whatever do you mean?”

The werewolf huffed. “I mean, shouldn’t you be up and about already? You’ve had plenty of time to recover but I can tell you’re still in pain even when you think you’re hiding it, and you’re constantly fatigued.”

“Ah,” Gavin chuckled darkly. “Probably because I’m a little hungry.”

Michael studied him for a moment, expression considering, then sat up straight and stuck his arm out towards Gavin, rolling his sleeve up in the process. “Snack away.”

“Pardon?” There had been so many ways that Michael could have responded but this was definitely not one that Gavin could have prepared for.

“You said you were hungry, and it makes sense that if you don’t feed, you won’t have enough energy to heal, so, yeah – drink from me.” There was determination in Michael’s gaze, a familiar stubbornness that made Gavin feel both fond and exasperated.

“No.” It was simple: he could not, and _would not_ , drink from Michael. Or any of the people on that boat for that matter. There was no way.

Michael scooted himself closer and shoved his arm out more. “I’m volunteering, it’s not a big deal-”

“It _is_ a big deal, Michael!” Gavin interrupted. “It’s far too dangerous, I could seriously hurt you!”

“I trust you.”

Gavin felt something clench tightly in his chest, the roots growing there clutching his heart in their rough grasp. The absolute conviction in Michael’s words, the complete and utter belief he had in Gavin – it hit him like a typhoon, battering him in a way that he had never felt, not once in his long life. It was almost painful how much he wanted to live up to those expectations.

“You shouldn’t,” he warned Michael in a small voice, already feeling his walls crumble.

“But I do,” the brunette countered. “Please Gavin – I need you to be ok and if that means I lose a little blood, then so be it.”

It shouldn’t have been so easy to abandon his former refusal but Gavin had realized pretty early on that he couldn’t really deny Michael anything, even if it was dangerous. With careful hands, Gavin took Michael’s wrist and held it up to his face. He breathed in, the clean and slightly oakey smell of the werewolf inundating his senses, the pulse under the thin pale skin thundering in his ears. He spoke his next words through descended fangs and with his lips dragging along deep blue veins, eyes never leaving Michael's.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop, if I get...out of control.”

Michael smiled at him, no trace of apprehension in his expression at all. “You won’t hurt me – you would never hurt me.”

With his body screaming for him to taste, to claim, to feed, Gavin opened his mouth and _bit._

Michael barely flinched at the initial pain and Gavin made sure to only release enough venom to numb the area around where his teeth punctured. Hot blood rushed into his mouth and he drank deeply, sucking ever so slightly to pull more and more out. It sent pulses of euphoria throughout his body and he was already feeling better, more awake. He drank for a long minute, taking his fill but still wary of the other man’s condition.

He never took his eyes off of Michael, watching as the younger man’s pupils expanded and his breaths became more like pants, his mouth hanging slightly open on a flushed face. Gavin released his jaws and glanced down to see his handy work; four pinpricks of blood leaked slowly down Michael’s arm, warm and inviting. When he looked back up at the brunette’s face, he was staring right back at him.

“You can take more if you need,” he said to Gavin, voice completely wrecked.

Gavin didn’t need to drink more, not really, but his mind was clouded by the fresh scent of blood and he couldn’t stop thinking about the feel of it rushing down his throat, so he licked over the werewolf’s wrist and bit down once more. Michael _whimpered_ and Gavin lost it.

Every single pull of blood sent him closer to the edge, the taste nothing like he’d had before; it was rich, subtly sweet, with something distinctly inhuman about it that fit Michael perfectly, and Gavin couldn’t get enough of it. At the back of his mind, he knew that he should be paying more attention to how much he was taking, but there was an emptiness in his gut that he hadn’t known was there that was finally being filled. Stopping was the last thing on his mind-

A light shove against his shoulder ripped him right out of his feeding frenzy and Gavin immediately retracted his teeth, looking in horror at the two sets of bleeding marks he’d left on Michael’s flesh.

“Oh gods, Michael, I’m so sorry-”

The other man smiled wanly at him though did not pull his arm away. “It’s ok, I’m alright, you didn’t hurt me.”

Gavin made a small noise in his throat as he began to lave gently at the marks, cleaning up the blood as best he could. “I told you-”

“Shut up, I’m fine; you know I’ll just regenerate everything in a few hours,” Michael scolded with a voice that still sounded out of breath. “Did you get enough to eat?”

It was frightening how at ease the other man was with the whole situation; Gavin’s heart ached and he struggled to meet Michael’s gaze. “More than.”

Michael closed his eyes and nodded, laying his head down on Gavin’s shoulder. “Good. Now stop talking; I’m fucking tired.”

Gavin slowly lowered Michael’s hand down into his lap but didn’t let go, just held it there in both of his own hands. He kept two fingers on the pulse point of the wrist and focused on the slow but even thrum of Michael’s heartbeat, the evidence that he was alive and real and present, that he hadn’t balked at Gavin’s intensity – had welcomed it in fact. It was at once terrifyingly disorienting and impossibly moving, like coming home. The unique taste of the werewolf’s blood still lingered on his tongue.

Nothing could have prepared Gavin for the riddle that was Michael Jones.

Nothing could have prevented him from falling in love either.

................................

“How did you die, the first time.”

The two of them were pressed close to each other in the small bed, Gavin’s arm around Michael and rubbing circles into his shoulder with his thumb, the werewolf half sprawled on top of Gavin’s chest and their legs tangled together under the sheets. Michael had long since abandoned his post in the chair next to the bed and decided that curled up against Gavin was the better place to be; it was warmer, comfier, and more convenient since all he wanted to do was be as close as possible. It just so happened that he was faced away from the vampire, palm resting on his flat stomach, and it gave him an easy opportunity to ask the questions he’d been holding back for weeks.

Gavin took several seconds to respond, words quiet when he eventually did. “I was murdered.”

With a jolt, Michael tried to lift himself enough to look at the other man. “What-”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Gavin cut in, gently pushing Michael back down so his ear rested above the vampire’s beating heart. “It can’t be taken back.”

Something stung inside Michael’s lungs; he took a deep breath and let it out slowly before trying again. “What – what happened?”

“It was...centuries ago; I lived in a small community in Europe, near a Hellenistic expansion, though not near enough to share its more progressive views,” the older man began. “I was an inventor, of sorts, and the others didn’t take well to that after a while.”

“Witchcraft,” Michael guessed.

Humming, Gavin continued. “Something like that, I suppose. They never really explained themselves but I think they believed I was being inhabited by some sort of evil spirit. Whatever the case, they eventually decided that I could no long exist among them and decided to end my life.”

Michael blanched. “They didn’t try to, I dunno, banish you first or something?”

“No. These were different times, and a very different place.” Gavin was silent after that.

Reaching out with the hand he’d previously been resting on Gavin, Michael grabbed the vampire’s free hand in his and pulled it to his lips. “What did they do?”

Gavin hesitated, body rigid, but relented when Michael placed a chaste kiss to his knuckles. “They attacked me one night – burst into my home and dragged me to the big ash tree at the edge of the village, then tied me up on its trunk.” His voice was barely a murmur but Michael could hear an ancient sort of sadness in Gavin’s words, something that made his own heart ache at the sound. “They stuffed my mouth full of stones and trapped them in with braided rope, then cut me deep with dirty iron blades. I screamed, of course I did – cried out the whole time for them to stop, that I was innocent – but they were far too full of rage and fear at that point to stop. I was left there for hours – I don’t know how many – bleeding onto the forest floor, alone save for the stars in the sky.”

Michael’s eyes felt wet and his voice shook slightly when he responded. “How old were you? You must have been so scared.”

“I don’t remember how old I was,” Gavin replied. “Somewhere around thirty, I think, though no older than that.” He pulled Michael in closer, a shiver running through his lithe frame. “I was. Scared, I mean. Terrified, even. But I don’t remember the actual dying part – which I suppose is a good thing. I just remember waking up and being hungrier than I’d ever been in my life. I-” the words stopped suddenly and Gavin cleared his throat. “I broke out of my bonds and...slaughtered them all in my thirst.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Michael assured him. “You’d turned – _t_ _hey’d_ turned you.”

Gavin let out a tiny laugh that lacked any humor. “The ironic thing was that they thought they were killing a demon but instead they created one.”

They were both silent for a while, each of them focusing on the other’s breathing and heartbeat. Michael wasn’t sure where to go from there, how to move on from such a traumatic tale or comfort Gavin. He wasn’t even sure he could, not with something like what the older man had told him. To bare himself so openly like that – Michael bled for him, figuratively and literally. What words could he provide that could possibly help; empty condolences and pledges? No, those wouldn’t do at all.

“I was 28,” he began instead. “January, 1979.”

The hand on his shoulder stopped moving and Gavin took his turn pulling their conjoined hands up to his mouth and kissing Michael’s fingers. “You don’t have to.”

“I know,” Michael said. “But I want to.” He shifted in Gavin’s embrace so that he could look into the vampire’s eyes. He’d revealed to no one what he’d become, not in all the years since it happened; it felt strange to say it all out loud but if he told anyone, Michael wanted it to be this man. He closed his eyes and let the warm scent of sandalwood and rain wash over him. “I was out with some of my friends and they dared me to jump in the half frozen lake near our neighborhood. It was obviously too cold for that and I drowned.”

Gavin took a quick breath in. “You died.”

Opening his eyes again and curling himself even closer, Michael turned his face more into Gavin’s chest. “Only for a little bit – one of my friends performed CPR and got my heart going again, and then the EMTs arrived and I was back to full health in a couple days. I only noticed something was different when I started to change one night while those same friends and I were out at a bar like a week later.” He chuckled. “I bet those guys are telling their grand kids stories about that night – how their old buddy went mental, ripped up the whole bathroom, and ran off into the night.”

“Did you fully transform?” Gavin sounded much calmer now, like Michael’s story was distracting him from his darker thoughts..

“Yeah, eventually. Woke up the next morning buck ass naked and half smothered in a deer carcass. Wasn’t a pretty sight.”

“I can imagine.”

Michael laughed again, this time a little easier. “Once I got home and cleaned up – which was an adventure in of itself, let me tell you; there’s far too many people out at the crack of dawn for a naked guy to get home unnoticed – I took a visit to the library. Took me a while to make the connection but it turns out that I drowned on the first full moon of the year.”

The crooked smile that Gavin gave him was small but it was _there_. “Wolf moon.”

“Wolf moon,” Michael confirmed with an answering quirk of the lips.

They remained quiet again after that but unlike before, this silence was comfortable and safe, just the two of them pressed as close together as they could be, slipping in and out of semi-sleep. Gavin resumed his soft caresses of Michael’s shoulder and the air was only disturbed by their gentle breathing. Michael was content to just stay there forever; it reminded him of that first morning waking up in Gavin’s arms. Had that really only been a week ago? It seemed like years.

After a while, when Michael was on the verge of falling fully asleep, Gavin put his face to the top of Michael’s head and stayed there for a few seconds before whispering an almost silent _thank you_. And this time, Michael was more than sure that he felt a kiss being pressed into his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little fluff before the end :)
> 
> I am once again asking you to come visit me on [Tumblr](http://toasterness.tumblr.com) so we can yell together.


	11. No Shadows, No Doubts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue to go! Might post that one early, as a treat. Thanks as always for reading <3

The man called Trevor met everyone in the main meeting room on the yacht to reveal all of the information he’d gathered on Dr. Adleman and his hunters. Well, ‘man’ was a technical term, Gavin supposed – Trevor seemed to be a manifestation of shadow who just preferred to take the shape of a man in his twenties with dark brown hair and a wicked smile. Every time he spoke, Gavin felt his words tickle the back of his mind as if little tendrils were slipping in and out.

“There are about ten of them in total,” Trevor informed the group from his spot next to Alfredo at the large round table they all sat at. “That includes our good doctor.”

Jack typed away at a laptop and building schematics popped up on the screen behind her. “According to Trevor, this is the building they’ve made into their home base; it’s in Rockford Hills just off the highway. It’s small but I suspect it’s trapped to all hell and back.”

“Do we have a plan?” Jeremy asked.

“Besides our usual of get in, mess them up, and get out?” Geoff leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face. “Try not to die.”

Rolling her eyes, Jack corrected him. “What he means to say is that we’re going in groups of two, try and keep them occupied at different locations to separate them a bit.”

“I will be with Michael.” Gavin stated it as a fact, no room for argument or debate.

Lindsay giggled and traded a pointed look with Fiona, who stood off to the side with a smirk on her face. “Oh, don’t worry, we already planned for that,” the poltergeist teased.

If he wasn’t so schooled in the art of pretending he wasn’t embarrassed, Gavin might have blushed. Instead, Michael did it for him, a flush quickly spreading over his cheeks, though he didn’t deny anything. A satisfied hum rippled through Gavin at the sight.

“When’re we leavin’, boss?” Alfredo asked; Gavin noticed that the younger man kept fidgeting, like he couldn’t wait to get off the boat and get to work. _Me too, buddy_.

Geoff glanced at Jack, who nodded, then addressed the group. “Tonight. Our new friends seem to be all fixed up and ready to go,” he looked at Michael and Gavin in turn, who inclined their heads in agreement. “So there’s no use in beating around the bush – best to get down to it and ruin these bastards before they kill any more innocent people. I imagine they’re expecting us, so be extra careful.”

It didn’t take them long to prepare; Geoff and the others had transferred a large portion of their armory to the yacht and each person grabbed what they needed, then studied the map of the hunters’ base and where their group would be entering from. Gavin and Michael chose to enter from a larger side door so that Michael’s wolf form could fit. Neither of them took any weapons – Michael was going to transform and was powerful enough as such, and Gavin still had his long Damascus blades. He was, of course, also the deadliest creature in Los Santos without them anyway.

That night they took a small boat to shore to where their cars were hidden, the group hopping in two of them to drive back into the city. Gavin rode in one car with Michael, Jeremy, Alfredo, and Trevor, the last of which seemed to keep flickering in and out of existence in the deep shadows of the back seat. In the other car was Geoff, Jack, Matt (with Lindsay safely invisible flying alongside them), and Fiona, who would be pairing up with Jeremy. These were apparently their normal teams, Matt being the one to stay outside with his long ranged weapon and a feisty poltergeist to keep him company.

It didn’t take them long to reach the base but it was still almost eleven by the time they arrived, the darkness of night already deep and established. They huddled together a few blocks away to go over the plan once more. When they felt ready, Geoff gave the signal to move out.

“And remember: we don’t have a fast way of saving you if you get poisoned, so – uh – don’t get poisoned.”

Jeremy looked over at Geoff with a bright grin, his eyes already in their strange double-iris form, teeth razor sharp. “Brilliant advice as ever, boss!”

And they were off; Gavin and Michael circled around to the side of the building where they would be entering and Gavin turned away as the werewolf stripped, tucked his clothes behind a bush, and transformed. Gavin turned around only when he felt a large furry head bump his hand. The corner of his mouth quirked up as he scratched the massive wolf between the ears, Michael leaning into the contact, his tail swishing along the ground as it wagged back and forth.

“Come on then,” Gavin chuckled quietly. “Time to go find ourselves a lying murderer.”

Michael let out the tiniest of woofs and took off running on silent paws.

It was easy for Gavin to keep up and they were quickly at the hunter’s base. They waited till precisely 11:15, the agreed upon kick off time for their raid, and then Gavin slammed his boot into a large door on the side of the building, effectively knocking it off its hinges. Michael charged in first, the sound of other entrances being forcefully opened and angry shouting filling the night air. The building was dark and smelled of gun oil and gasoline, as well as some unidentified, floral-like scent that made the hair on the back of Gavin’s neck stand up. _Poison_ , his brain supplied.

Suddenly, there was a loud _snap_ and Michael jumped back with a yelp as several arrows whizzed out of nowhere and embedded themselves into the wood flooring right in front of them. Gavin gave the werewolf a rapid once-over; there didn’t appear to be any new injuries and the large wolf was still standing and alert. Scanning the hall up ahead, Gavin listened carefully for the familiar measured pulse of Dr. Adleman’s heart. He would recognize it anywhere – he’d been listening to it for months in that tiny office.

A foul rage spiked behind his ribs as soon as he heard it. “Upstairs!” He shouted at Michael.

The werewolf didn’t wait for any more instruction before bounding down the hall in search of the stairs, Gavin following right behind. Along the way, they encountered more arrow traps and a small gas bomb that Gavin had to yank Michael back by the tail to avoid; it was in respect to the situation that the younger man didn’t react to the mild assault except to growl shortly and then continue further into the building.

They found the stairs eventually and quickly ascended the three flights to the floor where Gavin heard Dr. Adleman’s heartbeat. True to their word, Geoff and the others were successfully keeping the hunters occupied in other rooms, leaving the way wide open for Gavin and Michael to reach the professor in good time. The traps on the stairs were numerous but they were expecting them and avoided them with the same ease as the ones before. Michael’s fur got a little singed on one haunch from a blast of flame and Gavin had a slight headache from the weird smoke bomb but otherwise both remained unscathed. They were, as Gavin had known they would be, an excellent team.

At the top of the stairs, Gavin pointed down the left hallway and Michael started prowling in that direction. Nothing came out of the walls this time, no traps tripping from their movements; perhaps the hunters kept the upper floors free of hazards so they could move around without worry. Or maybe – and Gavin thought this more likely – they thought themselves too good to allow anyone past them. In either case, Gavin and Michael made it down the hall and stopped at a locked door that Gavin indicated was the one they needed. With a flash of a signal, Gavin backed up and kicked this door down too.

There was an excruciatingly loud piercing sound as soon as the door crashed open that sent a shooting pain through Gavin’s skull and caused his stomach to roil – another trap. He distantly heard Michael whine and saw him stumble as they entered and a strong ringing remained in Gavin’s ears but they both managed to run into the room despite the attack. It was all worth it though because there, standing on the other side of the room pointing a rifle at them, was Dr. Adleman, face placid and posture relaxed.

Gavin wouldn’t hesitate this time; he couldn’t wait to tear him to shreds.

................................

The only thing stopping Michael from leaping forward and ripping the professor’s head clean off right then and there was the gun aimed straight at him; he’d seen what the hunters’ poison could do and really didn’t want to be on the receiving end again, especially when they were so close to taking the killers down. Instead, he slowly started to step to the side, never taking his eyes off his prey. In turn, Dr. Adleman kept his gaze focused on Gavin.

One glance at the vampire showed him in a predatory stance with his eyes practically glowing in the low light of the room.

“Welcome to my humble residence,” the professor said with barely contained glee. “I hope you have found your reception to be, ah, acceptably pleasant.”

Gavin glared coldly at the other man, contempt clear as day on his face. “You’re sick.”

“Oh, maybe so, but I only ever do things that need to be done – I do not like to waste resources.”

Hackles raised, Michael let a low rumble build in his chest, annoyed that his current form didn’t allow him to express his true feelings in all of the colorful words that he knew. The professor just glance over at him with a leer, the grip he had on his rifle lax in a way that belayed a confidence born from decades of use. Michael knew he had to tread lightly in order to keep both himself and Gavin out of the line of fire. He let the growl in his chest grow louder.

“Look at you,” Dr. Adleman sneered. “All brutish and terrifying; I am practically shaking in my boots!”

Michael wanted to rip that stupid smirk off the professor’s face. He snarled, his whole mouth of cruel teeth on display as he continued to stalk around Dr. Adleman in a wide arc. He could see Gavin a few feet to his side with his knives still held at his sides.

“Why did you do it.” Gavin’s voice was void of any emotion.

Dr. Adleman switched his gaze from Michael back to Gavin and a wild glint sparked in his eyes. “Vampires took everything from me, Mr. Free – it is only right that I should take everything from them.”

“But why all of the innocents? What did those people ever do to you?”

“Innocent? People?” The professor cackled; it made Michael nauseous. “Those things are just as filthy and vile as you and your beast! It was my pleasure to have them exterminated.” He swiveled so the gun was pointed at Michael and Gavin’s face twitched. “In fact, I think I will take care of that particular problem right now.”

Realistically, the old man should have expected what happened next – wasn’t he supposed to be some sort of elite monster hunter? – but he just stood there with those manic eyes and cruel grin while Gavin slit his throat.

Michael barely saw it; Gavin was too fast for even his supernatural eyes to track – Dr. Adleman stood no chance in hell. His eyes did widen though as bright red blood gushed from the perfectly straight accross and fatally deep slash that appeared on his neck. He let out a single wet gag and dropped to the ground, Gavin standing over his body with hot arterial blood splattered on his face and chest, face as calm as ever save for the burning crimson of his eyes. There was no preamble, no monologue, just deadly skill fueled by intense hatred.

The blonde turned to Michael eventually and wiped the offending blade on his pant leg. “Should we go help the others?”

Sounds of fighting coming from the rest of the building filled Michael’s sensitive ears again; he’d completely forgotten about the rest of their group the moment that Gavin smashed open the door to reveal Dr. Adleman. He trotted up to Gavin and huffed, bumping his head into the older man’s thigh. Gavin smiled down at him and slipped a hand through the thick fur at Michael’s neck, an assurance as much as a comfort to both of them.

It took them barely a minute to reach the main area where the others had engaged the hunters. There were already several bodies on the floor, bleeding from various wounds, and at least one man was paralyzed in a running position, his eyes frantic as he stayed frozen right out in the open. Michael watched as a shadow at the corner of the large room shifted and a hunter was ripped from his hiding spot with a scream and immediately silenced when those same darkness wrapped around his throat and tightened. A dozen or so feet away, Geoff and Jack were engaged in a gunfight with three masked individuals.

“I thought you said there were only ten hunters?” Gavin shouted at Jack.

The redhead flicked her eyes over to them briefly as they joined them behind the upturned desk they were using as cover. “Turns out we were wrong.”

“You guys gonna get out there or what?” Geoff sounded winded; when Michael looked him over, he saw a bloody hole in his left calf.

Gavin nodded. “Keep them occupied – I don’t want any of those bullets coming for Michael.”

 _Or you, shithead_. Michael nipped at Gavin fingers in retaliation.

The vampire glanced at him fondly. “Well, shall we keep them waiting or shall we raise some hell?”

In lieu of an answer, Michael sprinted out and tackled the first hunter he saw.

All in all, there ended up being more than twenty hunters in the base, all of which appeared to be armed with weapons laced with poison, if the overbearing smell of wolfsbane and burnt earth was anything to go by. They were no match for the combined efforts of Michael, Gavin, and Geoff’s crew though once the werewolf and vampire joined the thrall; the fighting continued on for only five or so more minutes. Michael knew that if the poison wasn’t involved, it would have taken a fraction of that time.

Trevor and Jeremy were a terrifying force to behold, all streaming shadows coalescing into far-reaching limbs and petrifying stares, and Fiona’s pinpoint accurate screams caused their enemies to cry out and bleed from their ears. Even the humans were a force to be reckoned with – their shots were precise and lethal, taking out anyone that made the mistake of revealing themselves. Everyone worked together like a well-oiled machine and Michael found himself enjoying the fight more than normal.

But the most enjoyable part wasn’t the satisfaction of hurting those who had spent days upon days chasing him and peppering him with bullets, using his teeth and claws to tear them open and leave them in a gory mess on the floor, nor was it the thrill of the hunt he so loved; it was watching Gavin.

The vampire was a whirlwind of movement, dashing in and out of cover to avoid getting shot yet still managing to inflict damage wherever he went. Those Damascus blades that Gavin carried sliced through the hunters’ armor and flesh, staining the room with red, his fangs bared as he used his incredible strength and speed to rip through anyone that he came into contact with. Michael kept searching him out among the chaos, just the sight of Gavin sending static through his veins.

When the fighting was over and all the hunters lay dead on the ground, when the crew stepped out from their cover and began to search the rest of the building carefully for any remaining threats, Michael stood where he’d throttled his final kill to death with jaws at the man’s throat and observed the carnage with a sick sort of glee as relief flooded through him – they were finally safe.

And then he took one looked at Gavin from across the room – clothes soaked in blood, fangs sharp and bared, body tense and breaths heavy – and everything boiled over.

It took him three bounding leaps to reach the vampire, the last of which ended with him shifting back into his human form, Gavin's eyes zeroing in on him just as Michael lunged, dropping the knives he was holding with a clatter. The kiss was desperate and heated and so long overdue that Michael's head spun with the overwhelming need to get _closer_. He curled his hands into Gavin's hair and gasped when sharp teeth scratched his lips and made them tingle. It didn't matter that they were both covered in blood – it didn't matter that death still surrounded them – all that mattered was that they were finally wrapped in each other's arms and _kissing_.

"You're so fucking _hot_ when you're like this," Michael rasped out when they finally came up for air.

Gavin let out a breathy laugh and smiled crookedly, the sight of his fangs sending shivers down Michael's spine as they kissed again.

Then somebody nearby let out a loud whistle. "Get a room!"

The two of them broke away again and grinned wildly at each other. Gavin's eyes raked down Michael's body hungrily and that was the exact moment that he remembered that he was completely naked for everyone else to see.

" _Fuck_."

................................

The drive back to Gavin’s apartment was uneventful except for how tightly Michael held his hand and sat pressed as close as possible to him in the back seat of Geoff’s car, Gavin’s coat wrapped around his waist. The Fakes, as they’d jokingly began to refer to themselves – _it’s really clever, actually,_ Jack had laughed when Michael had called them as such while they got into their vehicles to leave – had been gracious enough to take them directly home instead of back to the yacht.

Home. They were going _home_.

It felt like years instead of days had gone by since they’d set foot in Gavin’s penthouse suite and it felt even better knowing that Michael was coming too; Gavin didn’t want to call anywhere ‘home’ that didn’t include the werewolf; not anymore, not after everything.

“Here ya go,” Geoff called from the driver’s seat as he parked in front of Gavin’s building. “Don’t be strangers.”

Gavin didn’t think that they could be even if they wanted to be; there was a bond between them all now, something new and fresh but with the promise to be great if they let it flourish. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Michael opened the door and they both stepped out. As they walked away, the passenger side window rolled down and Jack stuck her face out. She wore a friendly smile and spoke in an even kinder voice.

“Thank you,” she said. “For all your help, and for trusting us.”

With his hand still holding Gavin’s, Michael bowed his head at her, a light flush dusting high on his cheekbones. “Thanks for, you know...everything.”

Jack’s gaze turned fond and knowing. “Tell him.”

The blush on Michael’s cheeks darkened as they watched the car pull away. “Tell me what?” Gavin asked him.

Michael wouldn’t look at him, poorly concealed panic written clearly on his face. “N-nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Gavin took a few seconds to consider the evasion but decided to just wait and see. _He’ll tell me when he’s ready_.

They walked in silence the reset of the way into the apartment, thankful that they encountered no one and Michael’s state of undress could go unnoticed. Even the elevator journey was quiet, though Michael never once let go of Gavin and remained standing as close as he could. It was pleasant, if a little awkward, and Gavin couldn’t wait to finally get inside.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting a shower,” he remarked while unlocking the front door.

The brunette made a noise of assent and walked in behind him. But instead of dropping his grip on Gavin’s hand as the door was closed and locked, he continued towards the bathroom, dragging the vampire along with him. Gavin swallowed thickly and let himself be pulled, anticipation curling in his gut.

Michael dropped Gavin’s coat on the floor once they entered the bathroom, finally releasing his grasp to reach into the shower and turn the water on. And oh, Gavin had seen the other man naked before, obviously – Michael had always been shameless, even before the events of that night – but there was something different about this time, something charged and tangible radiating in the space around them. Gavin closed the door and let himself stare at the muscular and scarred lines of Michael’s back, willing himself not to make any assumptions.

The flush was back on Michael’s features when he turned back around to face Gavin, though this time he didn’t avert his eyes. “You don’t need to shower in your clothes – I know you have a washer.” His words were teasing, nerves not quite hidden behind them.

“Oh,” Gavin breathed.

Michael didn’t respond, though there was a hint of fervor in his eyes and the pink had spread to his chest now and _gods_ he looked so beautiful like that.

Finally, Gavin shook himself out of his stupor and slowly began stripping out of his filthy clothes. He felt Michael’s stare on him the whole time and boy did that do something to his heart. When they were both completely naked, Michael reached out his hand again and Gavin took it, letting the younger man pull him forward once more. Fortunately, the shower was big enough for the two of them with enough space to move around and wash off the mess left behind from the raid.

They didn’t speak, using their touch to communicate what neither of them had figured out how to say yet. Gavin took his time to clean Michael first, the blood formerly staining the gray fur of his wolf form now inked all over his pale skin like red brushstrokes and messy tattoos. The heat of the water couldn’t compare to the raging inferno threatening to take over where his heart used to be, every touch of skin on skin sending an electric shock straight to his brain. He was almost disappointed when the water ran clear.

That feeling didn’t last long as the younger man turned and began washing _him_. Michael’s hands were gentle but firm as they used a washcloth to wipe away the blood that had dried on Gavin’s neck, his eyes focused on his work while his body shifted around to stand behind the vampire. Gavin’s breaths stuttered in his chest and he had to close his eyes against the sudden crash of emotions that teetered dangerously close to veneration. He was a man on fire and Michael held the match.

Gavin hardly noticed when Michael stopped brushing the cloth along his spine, only falling back into the present when the werewolf leaned forward and pressed his forehead where his hands had just been. A pause, like the very air had been removed from the room, and then-

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The words were felt more than heard, spoken into the space between Gavin’s shoulder blades at barely above a whisper, dangerously close to being washed away. Lips grazed tentatively on top of where the admission still burned, the opposite of a balm that only served to scald even more. The heat of the water couldn’t hope to prevent the shiver that ran from his toes to the back of his skull; Gavin could barely breathe, could hear nothing but the pounding of his own heart echoing in his chest. God, he was so in love with this man.

“I know that’s kind of a big deal and, and, you might not feel that way, but I just – I just needed to tell you.”

He sounded so fragile and Gavin fell even harder.

It was surprisingly easy to change positions so that he was facing the werewolf, hands lightly holding his face as rivulets of water slid down his cheeks like tears. Gavin’s heart soared at the soft hope in Michael’s eyes – he really was beautiful; he was everything Gavin had always believed he would never have.

“What can I do to make you _know_ it?” He asked the brunette. “Because I would pull the moon from the sky if it meant I could love you for as long as you’d have me.”

Michael snorted, looking away for a second as his lips turned up in a tiny smile. “Well don’t do that, idiot – I’m a werewolf, remember? I’m supposed to need the moon, or something.”

Gavin grinned warmly back at him, leaning in so their noses touched. “All the more reason for me to bring it to you.”

Rich brown eyes flicked back and forth between Gavin’s and then Michael was kissing him again, this time without all the desperation from earlier but all the same heat. He crushed their bodies together and Gavin forgot how to breathe, forgot how to think about anything other than the taste of Michael’s tongue, the feeling of Michael’s hands gripping tightly to his hair and at his hip, the way Michael fell back against the shower wall to pull him closer and deepened the kiss – he forgot how to think about anything other than Michael Michael _Michael_.

“I love you,” he whispered into the werewolf’s mouth. “ _I love you_.”

Michael growled and Gavin let his knees give out.

Ah well – this position worked just fine for him anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	12. Epilogue

Michael awoke to the sensation of someone kissing his shoulder.

The light filtering in through the curtains was soft and Michael was warm all over, not quite fully awake yet but pleasantly muzzy. He turned his head to stare at the man responsible and melted; Gavin looked so soft, so gentle, adoration clear in his expression and arms a comforting weight on Michael’s waist.

“G’mornin’,” he mumbled.

Gavin smiled, pulling them both up so he could lean on a few pillows against the headboard and better hold Michael to his chest. “Good morning, love.”

The term of endearment so easily used set butterflies loose in Michael’s belly. Gavin must have noticed the change in his emotional state because he chuckled lightly and leaned down to kiss the tip of his nose this time. Michael tucked his face into the crook of the vampire’s neck in response, embarrassment causing his face to turn bright pink. He wiggled around a bit in Gavin’s arms as the blonde continued to laugh – this man would be the death of him.

“You can’t just _say_ things like that without giving me a warning,” he complained against Gavin’s bare skin – neither of them had bothered to put clothes on after the previous night’s activities.

“What, ‘love’?”

Michael groaned. “Yes, that!”

Gavin huffed playfully. “What about sweetheart?” Michael felt heat spread through his body. “Darling? _Moon_ of my life?”

“That’s it, old man! You’re done!” Michael groused as he pulled himself away to look at Gavin’s devilish smirk with a fake glare.

The vampire just grinned like an idiot. “Oh? And how do you figure?”

Michael forwent responding with words and crashed their lips together instead, moving to straddle Gavin’s thighs and shift their bodies to a more advantageous position. Judging by the way Gavin’s breaths quickened and the growing heat where their bodies met, that had been the right move. It was easy to slip into a give and take from there, neither of them caring much for propriety at that point and going straight to rocking together in a way that sent sparks down Michael’s spine and caused Gavin to release tiny noises that went straight to Michael’s lower half.

And then a loud buzzing broke the rising tension.

Gavin tossed his head back in exasperation, glaring at his phone that sat ringing and flashing on the nightstand. Reluctantly, Michael reached over and grabbed it, laughing at Gavin’s flushed expression. The caller ID simply said ‘J’ but Michael had a pretty good idea of who it was.

“This better be good,” he answered, eyes never leaving Gavin’s heated stare.

“ _I hope I’m not interrupting anything_ ,” came the playful voice of Jack from the other end of the line.

Michael reached his free hand outto wander down the flat plains of Gavin’s stomach, the muscles twitching underneath his touch. “Nah, it’s all good.” Gavin closed his eyes to take a steadying breath and Michael smirked triumphantly when he found his target. “What can we do for you?”

“ _Geoff would like you guys to come in to the base today_ ,” Jack replied with obvious humor. “ _He’d like to formally extend an offer of employment, so to speak_.”

With a hum of understanding, Michael increased his attention on Gavin, who was panting heavily by this point and still hadn’t reopened his eyes. “We’ll swing by later today.”

Jack sounded far too smug when she responded. “ _Sounds good! I’ll let the others know_.”

“See ya then!”

Hanging up before Jack could make any more sarcastic remarks, Michael chucked the phone behind him carelessly. He lay his now unoccupied hand on the side of Gavin’s face and used his thumb to stroke across the vampire’s cheekbone until he opened his hazel eyes to look at him.

“You are – cruel,” the blonde said between gasps.

Michael kissed him soundly. “You like it.”

Gavin moaned, both in apparent pleasure and frustration, eyes going half-lidded. “God, I’m an idiot for it but I do.”

“Good.”

Pulling both hands away, Michael moved a little so he was seated slightly further up in Gavin’s lap, blankets long since abandoned around them. He slowly rotated his hips, watching the vampire’s face the whole time, admiring the view in front of him, how every small movement would trigger a minute change of expressions. Gavin stared back at him, unguarded lust and idolization piercing Michael right through his heart.

“You’re so beautiful.” Gavin said it like it was fact, reverently, like it was scripture in a holy book. He reached out and pulled Michael in to a kiss more chaste than the moment allowed for but that sent liquid fire through his whole body nonetheless. How lucky was he to have this, to be loved so thoroughly by someone like Gavin and to get to experience such deep emotions and expressions of love. Maybe he would have questioned it before, doubted that any of it could be real, but it was so hard to even consider that when Gavin held him like he mattered, like he was wanted. If he could spend every morning this way for the rest of his life, however long it might be, Michael would be happy.

He could get used to waking up like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh it's done! Thank you so much for reading; my only hope is that it was as rewarding for you to read as it was for me to write. Here's to ending on a soft note!
> 
> Again, the biggest of thanks to the best beta in the world, [shineelocket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shineelocket), and J who keeps me sane <3
> 
> I devour comments like a monster, so please let me know what you think!
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://toasterness.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](twitter.com/toasterness) (Yes, I have a Twitter now! Currently obsessed with MDZS) so we can scream into the void together and come up with dumb fic ideas. You know you wanna...


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